


He Who Holds the Leash

by ascatman



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Biting, Blood, Blow Jobs, Broken Bones, Cannibalism, Crying, Eye Licking, Eye Trauma, Fingering, Gore, Guns, Head trauma, Knifeplay, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rimming, Serial Killer Ren, Watersports, Wound Fucking, autocannibalism, detective hux, eye removal, inappropriate use of prescription medication, musk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-07-22 12:08:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 41,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7438396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ascatman/pseuds/ascatman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With a lead like this nothing could go wrong. Hux has been following the notorious murderer, Kylo Ren, but there are consequences to his actions. What does someone do when captured by the very killer they have been tracking for months?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a roleplay between myself and a friend who did not wish to be named, fixed up into a fic.

Occasionally, when someone chose to turn to a life a crime and murder, there would be a method to the madness, a motive, something that drove them. Kylo Ren was not one of those people, there was no reason why, no glaringly obvious puzzle pieces to fit together. Some people simply liked to kill for the sake of killing. And Kylo Ren _really_ liked killing.

There was something about it that gave him the rush he had not felt since he was ten and his dad had caught him pulling the entrails from a cat. He'd insisted that it was dead when he found it, but his mom had cried anyway. He never liked to see her cry and she didn't like to be seen doing it. There were loud words exchanged on the other side of his wall that night. He did not argue when they told him he would be staying with his uncle for a while.

Back then it had been animals, small dogs and cats, anything that he could lure close and carry away. Animals screamed when they were in pain, they looked up with wide and scared eyes, but they didn't beg, they didn't _cry_. He had been sixteen when he killed his first human, a homeless man who was sleeping off a bottle of vodka, he must have wandered so far to wind up on the country road leading up to his uncle's farm. The sounds that a grown man made when a rock cracked his skull were something that he would never, ever forget.

He had learned to hide the animal bodies and clean up his messes if he didn't want to hear his uncle's disappointed tone as he lamented having to tell his sister how he had failed her son. But this was a work of art and he vowed never to hide another body again. He left the man there as a message, still gurgling and twitching as the ground beneath him pooled with a deep red that he had never achieved from an animal's death.

With nothing but a backpack of clothes and all the knives he could steal from his uncle's kitchen, he had set off, found someplace new, filled with people who did not know him and did not care to ask. It was there he adopted a new name, calling himself Kylo Ren and making enough of a living off the generosity of his victims' pocketbooks to afford to eat and sleep comfortably most nights.

A new name needed a new look. Ren found a long black trench coat in a thrift store, made of a thick material and sporting a hood that he was able to use to hide his features. There was still the matter of his face and the easily definable parts of it, which he decided to use a simple black bandanna for, tied behind his head and pulled up over his nose. It distorted his voice in a way he had come to like.

Years later and he had not been caught. He would spot his name in the paper, both the dead name in the missing persons section, accompanied by a photo of a sad looking kid that he no longer recognized as himself, and a slew of new names, being called ruthless, disgusting, inhuman. That was good, he never had liked being human. But there was something off, an underlying feeling of being watched from the shadows. Someone was tracking him, he needed to put a stop to that before anything could come between him and his art.

So he allowed himself to become predictable, sloppy in his movements. It would be the ultimate prize to plant a knife in the gut of whoever thought it wise to stalk a ruthless killer. He could feel him getting close, like a static electricity that ran through his body, and he knew without a doubt that tonight was the night it would all pay off.

\-------------

Hard work. Order. Method. That was all it took to succeed. At anything, but especially at this kind of thing. Hux had been on the case for months now: the string of brutal murders, painting a haphazard trail of practically unrecognizable corpses across three cities and two state lines. He’d been immersing himself in it, his (federal issue) car was practically filled with records of public phone calls, motel room rentals, car rentals, bus fares.

His laptop was full to maximum capacity with street-cam footage. More often than not he fell asleep watching the grainy thing, catching flashes of black cloth out of the corners of shots, the tall figure striding into or out of an alley, from countless cameras on countless streets. The crick in his neck from sleeping in the backseat would likely be there for months. Or hell, even years. But it would be worth it to catch the bastard. Just to see his face when he knew he’d been bested.

And Hux would do it. By working hard, tirelessly, staying organized, and sticking to his method. If he set enough records against each other, lined up enough dates and calculated enough patterns it would work. And it _had_ worked. He’d caught the pattern, how long he waited before moving, how far he moved, where he picked up his victims, when. He’d catch him tonight. And then he’d be able to do whatever he wanted with him. Hux had plans. He knew how to get things done. He had not graduated top of his class, had not gotten a degree in forensic science in two years for not being damn good at what he did. He knew his shit, and he knew how useful it could be to have a ruthless killer caught, but not necessarily incapacitated. There was a reason he hadn’t called for backup.

But that was getting ahead of himself. He had to catch him first. Which was exactly what he was about to do. When he’d seen him –and he’d known it was him, even though anyone could be out at this time of night wearing black, no one else walked like that, no one else ducked into alleys like that, no one else fell directly into where he’d expected his killer to be just when he’d known he’d be there– he’d turned his radio off and drawn his handgun.

He walked nearly silently to the corner of the shadowed alley, bracing his back against the wall. He counted down from ten, didn’t want him being too close, guns work best from a reasonable distance. Especially as threats.

Three. Two. One. He turned the corner, pointing his gun at the darkness. When his eyes picked out a shape, he used his most authoritative ‘I will be obeyed’ voice to firmly project “FBI. Get on the ground!” It was usually extremely effective, and had sometimes made people older, and higher ranking than him do what he said. He didn’t let a smirk of triumph tug at the corner of his mouth quite yet though.

The authoritative voice with which the man spoke meant nothing to Ren, did he not think that Ren had heard far, far worse? The gun did not scare him either, he stepped out from the shadows and stared for a moment, sizing up his opponent. He almost let himself smirk beneath the cloth that hid his mouth. This was going to be far too easy.

In one quick motion, he rushed the man, shifting to the side where he was out of the immediate line of fire of his gun. His hands were fast as he latched on to the barrel, twisting it sharply so that the only real option would be to let go or risk broken fingers. How kind of the detective to come without any backup.

"Stop!" he shouted as the figure darted toward him. Damnit! He had excellent marksmanship, but his finger had been resting to the side, his trigger discipline had always been immaculate. That was all well and good for scoring points at the academy or not accidentally shooting a civilian, but it was his downfall here. By the time he got his finger on the damn trigger, half the distance had been covered. He got off one shot, but then the killer was on him.

He did not let go of the gun, firing another shot that went harmlessly over the figure's –man's, definitely a man, he'd been expecting one, roughly 70% of serial killers were men, that went even higher when you factored in exactly how violent the murders had been. There was no doubt now, with the deep sound of the voice that grunted slightly– shoulder hoping the kickback might wrench it free, but the hand was more powerful than he'd expected, his fingers were twisted along with the gun. He heard a crunch, that would be his index finger fracturing in the trigger guard.

The crack of bone was even more satisfying than Ren would have expected, even the startling sound of gunshots were lost on him. His pupils dilated, heart pounding against his ribcage as he realized that he had successfully wrenched the gun away, it was all his now, along with the detective who had been stupid enough to think he had ever had the upper hand. Ren had disarmed plenty of the people he took as victims, all with techniques that he had learned from his father long ago.

This was not how Hux had envisioned this evening progressing. He'd thought there would be a bit of shock. At least a second of hesitation as no one had ever so much as come close to catching the guy before. His murders spelled 'impulsive', and 'passionate' not calm and collected, ready to turn on his heel and disarm a fed with a gun at a moment's notice. He gritted his teeth against the pain, hand wrenched free. He knew what to do in a situation like this. He was decent at hand to hand, good even, and he had to act quickly before the gun was turned on him. Though it had been a while, he'd been on this case so long, so many weeks on the road, he'd been slacking at keeping his training up. He went for his face with the heel of his palm. It was not his strong hand, but the solid bone would do damage if he landed it, and with luck, a sharp strike to the face would be unexpected and jarring. He dimly wished he'd brought backup, even if that would have ruined his schemes.

Ren’s moment of triumph was cut short suddenly as a palm contacted his face. He saw it coming, but he had reacted too slowly, managing only to turn his head enough that the blow was directed just shy of his nose. Broken noses were a fucking pain, he drew out the suffering of anyone who struggled wildly enough to cause him one and this would have been no exception. The hand did do a nice job of splitting his lip as it it was forced into his teeth, he could feel it bleeding down his chin already.

Rather than allow himself the knee-jerk reaction of clutching his wounds, Ren stumbled back from the force of the blow and immediately aimed the gun he had come to possess. While he had never been partial to firearms, finding them too loud and impersonal, he'd had at least a base amount of training. The shooting range with his father was one of the few fond memories he held onto from his past. Now it seemed he owed his dad a thanks for it, as he knew exactly how to aim for what he wanted. He fired at the man's leg, aiming for the knee, knowing if he hit anything around there then he would be rendered unable to walk without being in excruciating pain. This man was about to learn a valuable lesson about picking his battles and fucking with the wrong people.

Hux's hand contacted, but missed the nose he'd been hoping to break. It did him no good. The man did not double over, didn't even fucking reach up to touch his likely bruised face, just stepped back and shot. Again, without hesitation. Pain bloomed in his knee. Kneecap damage, that was permanent. His knee would never work perfectly again if the bone or any of the ligaments were hit. His supremely unhelpful brain supplied him with a long list of activities that required perfect knees as he fell to the ground.

He'd probably never be able to run a marathon. That was stupid. He'd never wanted to run a marathon in his life. Hux hated running, he'd barely endured the running drills at the academy. But that was the main thought in his head as he watched the leg of his pants darken with blood and the man with his gun loom over him. Not how he was now at the mercy of an incredibly violent ruthless killer, not how he'd blatantly disregarded FBI protocol. Not even how he'd probably never see his family again. But that he'd never be able to run a fucking marathon because a shattered kneecap was the kind of injury you never fully recovered from and no amount of reconstructive surgery would probably ever fix it. Nevermind the fact that he was likely not going to live long enough to get to a hospital.

This was _really_ not how he'd envisioned this evening progressing. "Stop now. I've got backup on the way and if you stop they might take you in alive." he lied, now cradling his right hand as the pain actually started to register.

Ren felt the sound of the gunshot go right to his crotch, drawing something like a groan from him as he watched the man crumple to the ground. He approached him, practically panting by the time he reached his side, gun held tightly in trembling hands.

"No you don't," he replied, voice gravelly and muffled by the cloth at his mouth. He dropped down next to him, hand shooting out to rest over the bloody mess of his knee, just barely applying pressure. "Do you think I'm stupid? You've been trailing me for weeks all alone, you only caught me because I _allowed it._ "

He let the smirk come this time, knowing it would not be seen either way. With the hand that he'd rested on the man's knee, he shifted his thumb, pressing it against the tear in his pants, past the fabric and into the wound. Oh yes, he was positively _hard_ now, this was to be a very special case. "Tell me your name, detective."

Hux tried not to react, but he was beginning to be in quite a lot of pain. Which was one thing, he could deal with pain, but he could not necessarily deal with pain and remain entirely impassive when all the hard work and sleepless nights of the past months was dismissed as being 'allowed' to catch him. His eyes widened incrementally as the killer spoke, drew in an involuntary sharp breath when he touched him.

No. No way. He'd...he'd noticed the pattern, he'd outwitted him, realized what his habits were, forced patterns out of seemingly random actions, resolved the order out of the chaos... but here he was, caught, just when he thought he'd be the one doing the catching. The hand on his knee moved, god, it was big, who even had hands that big? The thumb dug in and he held his breath to avoid gasping again.

"Fuck you" he spat at him, kicking out with his other leg. With what little leverage he had, the solid toe of his boot to the ribs would certainly hurt, if it wouldn't do any damage. At this point he was probably making his fate worse, making the killer angrier. But there was very little chance the man wasn't already going to kill him, so he could not really see any way his situation could get _worse_. He could at least give him a bruise.

A boot contacted him square in the ribs and Ren felt all the air leave his lungs at once. He'd asked a simple enough question and the man had seen what he could do already, so why was he even bothering to fight him?

Knowing he could even feel pain was something of a consolation, watching the killer hunch over himself and press his hands to his ribs gave Hux a grim, insufficient satisfaction. It would get him nothing in the long run, but at least he'd made the man hiss in pain.

"Wrong move," Ren hissed, clutching his side and reeling back on his heels. Anger burned brightly in his eyes as he raised the gun and pressed it firmly to the detective's forehead. The pain was nothing, just a bruise that would heal soon enough. He liked the fight in this one though, it was nothing like the desperate flailing of a man who knew he was about to die, this was something that Ren knew he had been missing. Yes, this man was going to come home with him tonight.

With the gun pressed to his forehead, Ren tilted his head, eyeing the man who was so bold, wondering what it was that drove him. He wanted to pick him apart, to tear him open. "You'll bleed out if we don't tend to that wound, detective. Allow me." With that, the gun was raised, then brought down hard against his head in less than a second, aiming to knock him unconscious or at least to render him delirious enough that he could be brought back to Ren's makeshift home. He really did intend on fixing up his wound, though he could not make any promises about what they would do once he got him there.

Too quickly, it was over, the gun was pressed to Hux’s head and there was nothing he could do. He even caught himself hoping he might have made him angry enough to kill Hux here and now. But the dark eyes seemed to glitter with cruel intent as they looked at him, head tilted with predatory curiosity. His own eyes narrowed in confusion, bleed out? He was hit in the knee, nowhere even close to a major artery, he was at greater risk of dying of blood poisoning from necrosis in a week's time than of bleeding out. He didn't have much time to puzzle over the words though. He was struck, hard, on the side of the head. A bright flash of light and pain, and then everything was far too dizzy and confusing to think about much at all. He might have blacked out, it was very hard to tell with the ringing in his ears.

It was almost too easy, Ren had him flopping down like a doll in no time. While he had knocked people out before, he had never gotten quite so excited about the idea of taking them home. He easily hoisted the man up over his shoulder and carried him off, depositing him in the back seat of a car he had rented under a different name. There was another benefit to taking the wallets of the people he killed, the ability to assume one of many different identities to get things done.

The drive to the abandoned home he was currently squatting in was short, only a few minutes. The previous owner had been a sad old woman in the wrong place at the wrong time, someone he had set his eyes on because she had no family to speak of. So long as the rent was slipped into the property manager's mailbox, no one asked questions.

It was a simple home, one story with a single bedroom and a basement. He carried his detective down the stairs, finally depositing him on the filthy blood-stained mattress he kept there only for very, very special occasions. The man would not being going anywhere with his knee how it was, but he had plenty of alternative methods of keeping him down if the need arose. For the time being, he seated himself next to him, running fingers down his chest and watching his face, wondering what sort of nightmares might plague a man who knew he was close to death.


	2. Chapter 2

Things came vaguely into focus in the back of a car that was starting up. It couldn't have been more than a few moments later, good, that meant he had sustained no major brain damage. A squint at the company logo on the steering wheel between those two unreasonably large hands confirmed that it was the same car he'd circled in red pen only just that morning in the records he'd gotten from the several rental places in the city. The fucking asshole rented cars with the IDs of his victims. It had been the first pattern Hux picked up, months ago, he'd then sent out requests to notify him if any cars rented by missing persons in past month were spotted. He almost chuckled to himself, he'd been right about that much at least. That was all he managed to think before time slipped away and then he was once again waking up, this time his head hurt, but did not swim, he was lying on something slightly soft, not moving. A mattress? Everything reeked of blood and... mildew? And there was something touching his chest.

He prayed his breathing had not altered when he'd come back to consciousness. He hadn't been stupid enough to open his eyes, and the killer thinking he was still unconscious would play to his advantage. Whatever it was that was going to happen to him, it was probably not going to start until he was awake if the throbbing pain from his knee and hand, and the ache in his head being the only sources of pain meant anything. The fingers drifted intimately over him, it made his skin crawl, but he schooled himself not to move a muscle. He could do nothing while he was being so closely observed.

Ren did not bother to acknowledge it if the man's breathing had altered in any way, he was far too enamored with his face. He studied his features closely, the bright ginger hair, his sharp cheekbones. His detective was attractive indeed, something that did nothing to help the throbbing hardness he'd felt in his pants ever since he first broke the man's finger.

Asleep or not, Ren decided to act, this was _his_ property after all, his fingers were nimble in undoing buttons, easily getting the dress shirt undone in hardly any time at all. He could have torn them all, but that was too easy, too predictable. Ren was not a rapist, so eager to get to the good parts of a person that he destroyed their clothing in the process, he was an artist with a vision, who wanted to see his canvas in its entirety before he painted on it.

Oh fucking hell. No, of course he wouldn't wait. It must not have been very long since he'd been deposited there. It didn't fit with his profile of the killer to exercise restraint.

But then again, he was delicately undoing Hux's shirt, not tearing into him, or even his clothes. What the hell? Why would he want to undress him without damaging his clothes? The bodies had never shown signs of sexual assault, when they were intact enough to test for those kinds of things. Of all the things he thought he'd have to endure, that had not been one of them. But now.. the gut deep disgust that the hand running over his chest had elicited doubled. He'd have to make a move now, while he'd have the element of surprise, or not get the chance at all.

The presence over him shifted slightly lower, moving to the last few buttons on his shirt, this was far from an ideal position from which to attack but he had to do something, and make whatever it was count. Opting for power over pain, he balled his broken right hand into a fist, if he landed it right, it would be the middle knuckle that got the brunt of the force anyway, he could live with the consequences of worsening a finger break. He opened his eyes, taking only a fraction of a second to register where his captor's head was before throwing as hard a punch as he could at it.

Luckily for the captured man, Ren had been preoccupied with his clothing. The punch landed, hitting him square in the jaw, sending him onto his back on the hard concrete of the basement floor. He sat up on his elbows, heaving as his breath caught in his throat. There was so much fight in this one, so much to keep him around for, that was the only reason why he did not immediately kill him, because he promised to be a new and fantastic toy.

Ren groaned, bringing a hand beneath his bandana to rub at his chin, eyes trained on the man before him, fascinated with how much fight he still had. "You're still trying to hurt me," he mused, watching for only a moment longer before pulling himself to his feet to loom over the detective, stood close but not so close that he could be easily struck. "Your will to survive is admirable, detective. Not enough to save you, but enough that you clearly have my attention. Need I incapacitate you further to discourage your bad behavior?"

"Of course I'm still trying to hurt you, did you expect me to lie back and wait to be killed?" His hand screamed, the bones of his finger now likely horribly misaligned. But it had been worth it. The satisfaction of having bested him, even just a little outweighed the pain.

He smiled nastily up at the masked man, propping himself up on his elbows to meet his gaze more evenly. How he wanted to see that bandanna off and survey damage he'd done. "Oh. I'll be the model of docility. No need at all". He loomed very effectively, Hux had known he was looking for someone well over six feet tall, but somehow he took up so much space, seemed to tower over him.

"Cute." Ren stepped over him, dropped down to his knees, placing them firmly on top of the man's hands, grinding his weight into the broken one. He brought his hands to the detective's shoulders, squeezed tightly and pushed back firmly, willing him to lay back for him.

There was nothing Hux could do, no way to stop the heavy weight from pressing him back down into the mattress, no secret reserves of strength with which he could throw the killer off of him. Hell, he must have had at least thirty pounds on Hux, maybe as much as fifty. The knee on his hand made the pain spike up into a shriek, the bones ground together, his eyes watered but he refused to make a sound, he clenched his jaw so hard he feared he might crack a tooth.

"Lying is a pathetic excuse for a way out." Ren watched him closely, nails digging into the flesh beneath his shirt as he licked his lips beneath the fabric that hid them, already feeling his cock straining hard against his pants. Normally he would wait for the chance to touch himself, but this was so, so very good, he could not help but reach a hand down to rub at his crotch, if only for a moment. "Tell me your name," he breathed, thumb of his free hand working its way over to press into the man's throat, just barely enough to impede his breathing slightly, "and I'll tell you mine."

A thumb pressed into his throat, his breathing came a little less easily. That was definitely an erection being rubbed through pants less than a foot away from his face. He turned his grimace of pain into a sneer. "My name." he took another difficult breath "Is detective Fuck You."

It lacked the impact that he would have liked. He was too far away to try for a headbutt, there was no violent way to punctuate his defiant words. And it didn't even matter. There was no point in concealing his name. The only family he had was his father, and he seriously doubted Brendol Hux was in much danger of being hunted down by a serial killer. He was doing nothing by being intransigent other than refusing to give him what he wanted freely. That would likely mean it would be forced out of him, while he didn't look forward to that, he could not bring himself to do anything that was asked of him without putting up some kind of fight.

"Well, I can indulge a name like that if that's _really_ what you want." Ren leaned down over the man, bringing his face close, but just out of headbutting distance, wanting to see every emotion that crossed his face as close as he could without compromising his own safely. "Something tells me that you would prefer to conduct things in a more clinical manner."

Ren dragged his nails down the man's chest, digging in just barely, refusing to rake the long crevasses that he wanted to leave in favor of seeing how he could cause the detective to react on this alone. "You can refer to me as 'Ren', for your personal record, detective. And I would _really_ love something more than that to call you while you're in my care. Who knows, perhaps I'll decide that I enjoy your company and want to keep you around."

It was an obvious ploy. Hux was going to die here if he did not incapacitate or kill this man. Ren. No acts of mercy would be extended on something so simple as giving in to his first request. But if it bought him time... While he was still alive he could fight, while he could fight, he still had a chance to win.

He was not above appearing to scrape for his life like a coward. Sometimes you had to give ground in a game of chess if you wanted to take the board in a future turn. His best interest now was to keep Ren talking, while they were talking, he could strategize, take stock of his surroundings, think of some way out of this. He'd be walking nowhere very far with his knee, but there was likely a car outside, the one they'd gotten here in.

"Ren is it? Alright Ren. Suppose you do keep me around, Why exactly should I want that? I'm sure that I couldn't possibly enjoy any of our time together very much. Your 'care' doesn't seem like something I'd want to last very long" He cast about surreptitiously, trying not to move his eyes too much. Stairs, no windows, cement floor. Basement. Ok, so they were in a basement. There could be many useful things in a basement.

Hearing his name spoken aloud had Ren biting his lip, wanting so badly to take this into sexual territory, but that wasn't him, he was not that sort of killer. Raping victims was sloppy, no matter how badly he might have wanted to get off on the rush alone, he always had to reign himself in, refusing to give in to the urge to fuck them. Fucking a victim left evidence and Ren would not be incriminated and profiled as that sad missing kid from long ago on his come alone.

This detective was different though, something new. He was a victim that did not scream, did not talk about daddy's fortune or how easy it would be to break free. Ren sucked in a long breath, finally placing his hands on the detective's face and cupping it as he leaned in closer. "I might find it in my heart to forgive you if you choose to give me a name. Otherwise I'll be digging into your wallet to find whatever ID you might have. Now wouldn't you rather give me your name willingly?"

Of course. His wallet. he still had his fucking wallet in his pocket. That had his federal badge, his ID, everything. He imagined Ren renting his next car under the name A. Hux. Now wouldn't that be amusing. The last time anyone looked at his name outside of a tombstone would probably be to put it into an auto lease database. The epitaph would certainly be the last time his father bothered with him.

"Hux" he finally said. Deciding that would probably keep him talking longer than further refusal. "Detective Hux." It was not a common name, but did a serial killer really know the internal workings of the FBI well enough to know who ran their academy and recruitment program? No, his name wouldn't mean anything to Ren, no connections to high places to pull on here.

All the while, he was still casting about, the furnace in the corner didn't look like it would be of any use to him. Damn but there was little else down here that could be used as an improvised weapon. What did Ren do? use his bare hands? He knew there were knives involved, the lacerations on the bodies proved that much, but there was no sign of tools of any kind, in his field of vision at least. Admittedly, that was limited to the half of the room below him, and that was mostly taken up by Ren himself, but what he could see was bare cement and suspicious stains.

"Hux," Ren repeated, little more than a huff, but his eyes were wide, pupils large, scanning every inch of the man that he could see from where he knelt over his chest. He liked this one, wanted nothing more than to take him apart in the most methodical way, to inspect every part of him and see how he measured up to the people he had ruined before him. Did a detective have different looking organs than someone in a less taxing profession? Would his liver be an unhealthy pale color from drinking, or would his lungs be blackened from smoking?

His name sounded like something dirty in Ren's mouth, the way he breathed it out with so much intent. Hux could practically hear everything that Ren wanted to do to him. He regretted telling him it immediately. Why hadn't he given him a fake name? The only way he would have known would have been to look in his wallet, and the consequences for lying couldn't possibly be much worse than what was already in store for him.

Ren slid a hand up to card through Hux's hair, fingers tangling up in the red locks and tugging his head back. "Do you know your way around a cock, Detective Hux?" His free hand went down to his crotch, rubbing himself through his slacks, leaving nothing to the imagination. "This is not normally how I conduct my business, but you are a very special case for reasons that I'm sure you already know."

Hux kept contact with those wide dark eyes, they were too deep, too dilated, too full of lust and hunger, but he'd rather look at that than at what Ren was doing with his free hand. "Oh should I feel honored? We were all so terribly impressed that you managed to refrain from raping your victims before mutilating them." That had actually been a subject of much frustration on Hux's part. No sexual assault meant no semen, no pubic hair, no DNA. As reckless and brutal as Ren was, he was careful in that respect at least.

"But if you must know. Yes. I wouldn't be cutting my teeth on you." Hux knew what he was doing with another man. Detective was a solitary, busy profession with little time for romantic involvement, but he'd done his fair share of the parts that didn't require commitment. And if Ren intended to rape him first, that only bought him time and potential distractions.

"I know this may be hard for you to believe, but I do have standards, detective." The hand that had come to rest in his hair moved down, thumb brushing over his bottom lip, then sliding past to hook on his jaw and tug down. "Will you bite?"

Obviously there were some risks involved with sticking your cock in the mouth of a person who had just been throwing punches, but maybe Hux would be smart about picking his battles now. Ren had never tried to fuck any of his victims before, always waiting until he got home or could find an alley somewhere to yank his pants down and jerk himself. Fucking meant come, come meant DNA, and DNA meant being found out. He was sloppy in his murders, but he refused to be sloppy in his trail.

Quickly, he undid his slacks one handed, reaching inside to touch himself without the fabric getting in his way. His eyes were still focused on Hux, nails pressed into his cheek just barely while his breathing picked up and his hand shifted into an obvious stroking motion beneath his pants. It was amazing how grinding his knee down on the detective's broken finger somehow made him _harder_ when he thought he was already as hard as could be. "Will you bite if I hurt you?" he amended, words followed by a soft groan.

Hux couldn't very well answer with a thumb in his mouth, but he could demonstrate, he went easily, letting his jaw fall open, laving his tongue over the pad of the thumb. The answer to the first question was obvious. He was desperate, not stupid, biting now would only speed his fate. He'd gathered how quickly Ren reacted, how little he cared for pain. If he was going to bite, it would have to be at a very opportune moment, and convincing Ren that he wouldn't was crucial to getting to that moment.

But the answer to the second one was a little less clear cut. He flinched as more weight bore down on his hand, blinking back the involuntary tears that gathered at the corners of his eyes, but did not bite down on the digit in his mouth, instead he licked at it, down to the fragile bit of skin between thumb and forefinger. He could stop the reflex for now at least. But how much did Ren plan to hurt him? Was he so desperate to inflict pain that he'd do major damage while getting sucked off? Unwillingly, Hux's eyes darted down to Ren's crotch, hard to see what he was working with through the undone pants, but fuck, his hand was moving back and forth too far for him to have been small. He willed himself to look back up to his eyes. He still had that fucking bandanna on, so Hux could not read his expression, he settled for wondering whether his jaw had begun to bruise yet from where he'd punched him.

"Good." Ren praised him breathlessly, working his thumb along the surface of his tongue, wetting it fully before sliding it free. Hux would not be leaving this house alive, Ren had nothing to lose. The hood came down, his trench coat shrugged off and set aside. The knife he needed was in the pocket however, he quickly retrieved it, his favorite pocket knife, curved like a talon and pitch black, designed to fit perfectly when held with the tip facing down.

"You understand that you cannot be allowed to leave alive if I show you my face." It was more a warning than anything, as he immediately pulled the bandana down to his neck. He briefly considered that this man could very well recognize him if he had opened a paper to the missing kids section in the last few years, especially if he had been trailing him through the cities surrounding his home town. Ren could still see himself there on occasion, it seemed that his parents had never given up, despite the son they had known being long since dead.

Not for a moment did Ren shift from his position over Hux, not in taking off his jacket or in retrieving the wicked looking knife from its pocket. There was no opportunity to do anything but watch. Hux was not even given a chance to look away or shut his eyes before his death was assured, if it had not been previously, there was no chance Ren would let him live now. What had been an imposing, shadowy form of a hooded and cloaked figure turned into just a large man, long dark hair, broad and lanky.

He could see why he would not allow anyone who had seen his face live. It was not a face forgotten easily. What might have been the line of a heavy brow or a scratch that had peeked above the bandanna revealed itself to be a great puckered scar, old and silvery pink, running diagonally from forehead to below his chin, just barely missing his right eye, nearly bisecting his face. There would be no hiding that if a report of his appearance got out. The strangest part was that it was not even his most striking feature. The terrifying dark eyes, Hux had seen, but he had not been expecting a clumsy, almost comical nose, or a soft mouth quite that wide and plush.

Ren kept his eyes on Hux while he finally pulled himself from his slacks to jerk his cock in the open, give him a look at what he would be working with. Meanwhile, he flicked open the knife with his other hand, showing off the sharpened blade, how it gleamed as the dim light of the basement hit it just right.

Hux looked away, eyes drawn to the other motions. Trying not to linger on either his cock or his knife. Both of which he'd wager would end up inside of him in one way or another before the night was out unless he did something very effective very soon. "I understood that I was not going to be allowed to leave alive the second you incapacitated me in the alley"

Ren brought the knife to Hux's throat, cupping his adam’s apple with the perfect curve of the blade. "If you survive this I may keep you. I would avoid moving more than necessary while my blade is so close to your throat. I've heard it's one of the worst ways to go."

Hux obediently stayed perfectly still, the cold metal against his skin providing more persuasion than any words possibly could. He had no doubt Ren knew exactly where his carotid artery was. A plan was beginning to formulate now, there was nothing much in the basement that he could use to his advantage, but there was one more trick up his sleeve. Or rather, down his boot. He'd nearly forgotten about it until now, the deep, damning pain in his left knee had dominated most of his attention for the lower half of his body, but his own knife was nestled safely along the outside of his right foot. It would be difficult to get with his hand in the state it was in, but if he could, it was the best chance he had at getting out of here alive.

Ren’s knees shifted, no longer threatening to destroy the man's already broken finger, settling next to his arms instead. He would need to take his pants off fully soon enough, but he could not risk the moment of weakness that came with completely climbing off of Hux to shuck them. With the knife still firmly in place, he scooted forward, pressing the tip of his cock to the detective's lower lip, resting it there before sliding his hand back through his hair. "I'll move the knife when you begin."

The tip of Ren's cock came to rest on his lip, and he wasted no time in darting his tongue out to taste it. Apparent docility would be the best way to lull Ren into a sense of security that he had Hux tamed, the better to grab the switchblade from his shoe. A quick touch, then a longer lap, running his tongue along the edge of the foreskin. He waited for the knife to shift away from immediate danger of slitting his throat before leaning up to take the head fully into his mouth.

The first touch of tongue to cock left Ren gasping softly, prompting him to move the knife so that he could feel the heat of his mouth surrounding him. His fingers dug into Hux's scalp, pulling him closer, urging him to take more. "Good... That's good." He rocked his hips forward, groaning under his breath, Hux's name on his lips.

There had been no shortage of chances for Ren to have sex, so many people tried to bargain for their lives with it. He had simply never found any reason to compromise his identity with the possibility of leaving DNA behind. No amount of sex was worth getting caught. Though this one time, he would allow it, now was as good a time as any to take care of properly fucking someone for the first time. The one time he had ever paid for sex did not count, he had been young and made to believe that some aspect of growing up was not completed until a person lost their virginity. That had been the only time he showed restraint in refraining from killing someone he felt deserved it.

Hux refrained from rolling his eyes, though he did feel the urge to, the situation was too dire to be mocking his assailant. Of course Ren would be the type to praise whoever was sucking his dick like they were a dog and drag them around by the hair. He could hardly protest. His prerogative right now was to give Ren whatever he wanted, keep him distracted while he slowly bent his good knee, angling his hip uncomfortably inward to inch his shoe closer to his injured hand.

This was hardly a good angle for this, he could not get very deep, but something told him Ren didn't know a good blowjob from a bad one. Hux made do, keeping his lips sweetly rolled over his teeth, letting Ren rock his hips when he liked, swirling his tongue over his cockhead and lapping at the underside when he thrust deeper. Using his hands was out of the question, even if it would have made it better, he wanted his hands to be as far from Ren's mind as possible, just as his right brushed the sole of his shoe and he began to untie it as best he could with his thumb and middle finger, the index being hopelessly swollen and impossible to use now. Were his hand in better shape, he could have just slipped his fingers in the top to grab the knife, but things are not always how we wish they might be, so he swallowed around Ren's cock and got the laces undone.

Luckily for Hux, Ren took no notice of his movements, far too preoccupied with the sensation of heat and wetness around his cock. He was working his hips in earnest, grunting and yanking Hux into each thrust, gaze locked on those spit slick lips, watching intently as his length disappeared between them. Hux knew what he was doing, even if Ren only had the one experience to go off of as a reference.

"One has to wonder how many times you've done this." His voice was deep, hitching slightly whenever Hux's tongue passed over the head. "Who did you do it for? Have you got someone who's going to miss your talented tongue when you don't return home?" That was part of it, the psychological aspect of digging into the minds of his victims, finding whatever horrors they may have locked away and exploiting it for their fear. There was something obscenely attractive about the look on someone's face the moment they realized how many people they would never get to say goodbye to.

Hux’s face remained relatively impassive, as deadpan as he could be while his head, knee and hand throbbed and he tried not to gag on Ren's uneven thrusts. He had no one waiting for him. He'd been on the road for months tracing Ren. The office might get suspicious once he didn't check in tomorrow night, they might send someone after him in three days. But no one would miss him. His tiny, rarely slept in apartment was empty, his occasional hookups would just assume he'd moved on from calling them. He'd always stayed emotionally distant from them anyway.

He let his eyes slip closed to better work his mouth without having to look at who exactly it was he was sucking off. He had to make this good, very good, as now was the crucial moment. He slid his swollen hand into the loose top of his shoe, fingers grazed the handle of the knife, he grabbed for it, all the while keeping his tongue moving, keeping his mouth soft and pooling saliva to keep it slick. This had better be the best damn blowjob he ever gave in his life.

The handle slipped from his painful fingertips, he was being jerked around too much, he tried again, pinching it between middle and ring fingers, he worked it loose sliding slowly from his boot and falling neatly into his hand. Got it! He pulled the release with his thumbnail and it flipped open. Now, where to strike that would be effective? Ren had a knife in his own hand, whatever Hux did, It had be fast, and it had to do a lot of damage.

If he hadn't been rolling in pleasure, Ren might have been angry at the lack of reaction his words brought. As it was, he could not bring himself to do anything but moan and let his head fall forward. Hux's eyes were closed now, and he was sure it must have been something to do with his comments getting to him. He arched his back, breath coming in short huffs as he realized how close he was getting. Would he paint the detective's face, or spill down the back of his throat?

"Perhaps you have no one," he breathed, tightening his hold on Hux's hair, pulling hard, forcing him as deep as he could in the awkward angle. "You'll die and no one will ever even notice you've gone. Mmh... It's almost a shame. I'll be sure to remember you at least, detective Hux."

Ren was close. Hux could tell, he didn't even try not to gag as Ren's cock hit the back of his throat repeatedly. It was now or never. His eyes snapped open, grip tightened on the knife, and he made to stab Ren in the side.

But fortune was not on his side. His grip faltered, Ren thrust his hips faster than Hux had expected him to, he was pulled more harshly forward. The jab that should have sunk the stiletto deep into his kidney struck far off its mark. The blade buried itself deep in the muscle of Ren's thigh instead, on the outside, where it was bound to hurt a great deal, but nowhere close to the major artery.

So close, he had been so close, those gagging sounds were pulling him toward the edge, making him thrust harder and faster. He was practically panting, bucking his hips as he chased down his orgasm.

And then there was a sudden sharp pain blooming in his thigh, and a wetness spreading over the fabric of his slacks. His immediate reaction was to pull off of Hux, rolling over before scooting back and looking down at himself. His orgasm was lost, cock still standing tall and glistening with saliva. That was a knife, in his fucking leg. He glanced from the knife to Hux and then let out a scream of frustration as he latched onto the handle and tore it from his thigh.

Blood gushed from the wound and he kicked his pants off to hold his hand firmly against it. "Stupid!" he roared, more at himself than at Hux. He had done it again, not checked someone thoroughly enough, like the girl who he had cornered that happened to have a knife stuffed away in some nook of her outfit. She scarred his face, he tore her flesh to ribbons. He had two knives now though, and he abandoned holding his wound in favor of holding a knife in either hand, refusing to allow Hux the chance to grab his back. "I hope it was worth it, I hope you appreciate all that I'm going to do to you now!" His face was drawn into a scowl, every shouted word accompanied by a spray of saliva from the sheer force behind them. All Hux had to do was suck his cock, why did he have to be so _stupid?_

Fuck. FUCK. He'd had the perfect opportunity. The perfect chance to save himself. Ren had been entirely distracted, completely oblivious. And he'd gone and cocked it up and missed anywhere that could have possibly incapacitated him. Now he didn't have his knife, didn't have anything besides an enraged killer, now with _two_ knives and a deep and painful wound on his leg that would do nothing to even prevent his walking.

Hux scrambled back, primal fear for once outweighing his better judgement. He made it off of the mattress, cement scraped at his hands. He had to look behind him, see where he was going, but he could not take his eyes off of the man looming over him. He was terrifying to behold, fury contorting his features, blood running down his leg and dripping from the knife. One and a half hands and one leg were not enough to get Hux very far. He ran up against a wall. Trapped. Ren was between him and the stairs, his knee would not support his weight. There was nothing to grab, nothing to defend himself with, nothing to possibly save him now.

Ren watched Hux scramble to back up, seeing the very moment in which he lost all hope, as if there had ever been any possibility for him to escape to begin with. The look of fear on the man's face was almost so satisfying that it was worth it to be stabbed. No matter what, he was going to have to pay, Hux could not be allowed to think that his behavior was acceptable.

It took Ren no time to be upon him, stood over Hux with a knife in either hand and a crazed look in his eyes. "I hope that you're happy with your decision. If you want to avoid an agonizingly slow death then you'll listen to everything that I tell you and obey without question." He clung tightly to the knives, knuckles white with the effort, and glared down at the man, relishing the fear in his eyes that was all for him. "Get back on the mattress. Lay on your stomach with your hands behind your back. I will not ask a second time, so don't _fucking_ test me."

Hux got a hold of his fear, wrestling it down. Ren was no more dangerous now than he had been before. He'd always intended to kill Hux. This changed nothing. The fact that it felt like being trapped in a corner by a wild animal more than menaced by a man with knives didn't mean his situation had become any worse. Nothing he did now could make his situation worse. Why should he make it easier for Ren? Who'd fucked his throat and crooned about how he'd die wand no one would even notice he was gone.

He sneered up at him. "Or what? You'll murder me extra hard? I'm not afraid of you, or an agonizingly slow death" The effect was lost, mostly because the adrenaline coursing through his veins had him still breathing hard. He was not lying though. Instinctual primal fear was one thing, but once that passed, he was not afraid to die, and he was not afraid of pain. Ren could very well do his worst.

"Idiot," Ren hissed, baring his teeth down at Hux, doubly angered now that he was no longer showing fear. If he was not afraid of pain then that was something Ren could absolutely test.

His foot lifted and came down with force against Hux's knee, aiming to do as much damage to the already injured joint as possible. At the very least he could take out his anger and make sure that Hux would never walk properly again. Not that he would be living long enough for that to matter, but it gave Ren a sense of satisfaction to know that if some aspect of his plan went wrong and Hux escaped, he would always be reminded of Kylo Ren.

Hux saw the stomp coming, but he could not move in time. Ren's foot came down on his injured knee and a cry tore itself out of his mouth. He felt the bones crunch, irreparably damaged now, the flow of blood that had clotted and ceased began freely again. He was glad he could not see the ruined joint, he was sure a bone must be protruding through the skin. Hux did not look forward to seeing the jagged white of it. He closed his mouth on the involuntary shout of pain, gritting his teeth just in time to be yanked forward by his hair.

Immediately after the stomp, Ren was transferring one knife to the other hand, holding the two of them together so that he could lean down and take hold of Hux's hair. His hand twisted as he yanked up, lifting him slightly from where he sat, holding his weight with his hair alone and beginning to drag him in the direction of the mattress.

Hux’s hands shot up to grab Ren's wrist, pulling some of his weight off his scalp. His left leg dragged uselessly behind him leaving a trail of blood toward the mattress. His right struggled to get purchase, but Ren was too strong, pulling him too fast. "Bastard," he gritted out, not that it mattered what he said now.

Those cries were satisfying, like music that Ren would have been content to listen to for the rest of the night. They were gone all too soon, but there would be plenty of time to force even more from him before the night was through. He pulled Hux to the mattress and threw him down exactly as he had asked him to do on his own, laid on his stomach, knee adding a fresh bright stain to the already heavily stained mattress.

"We could have avoided _all_ of this if you would have just _listened_ to me!" Ren dropped his weight down on Hux's back, straddling him and reaching back to drive his knives into the mattress, leaving them out of the man's reach, but close enough that Ren could grab one when he needed it. His hands found Hux's wrists, yanked his arms back, holding both wrists in one large hand while he pulled his bandanna free from his neck with the other. He had enough experience with this part to easily have the detective's wrists bound together tightly in no time. This was the last time he allowed anyone to go this long without having their hands incapacitated, Ren was done with scars.

It would almost have been a humorous spectacle, Ren storming about without pants, cock waving around, but there was nothing funny about this. He still had those knives and now he was angry enough to really start to use them. He seemed to completely ignore the wound, still oozing blood, more of the skin of his leg was red now than not. Hux took some small consolation in the thought that it had been deep and might get infected while he kept Ren too distracted to clean and bind it. A wound that shape needed stitches, five at least.  
"You know damn well you planned to kill me anyway" he snarled into the filthy fabric of the mattress. Something in his shoulder –one or more GHL ligaments, his unhelpful brain supplied readily– stretched, but did not tear as his arm was bent too far back and Ren bound his wrists behind him. Rather unnecessary now considering he'd wasted his last trick on stabbing Ren's fucking leg. "As if I'd ever let you keep me as your sick fucking pet"

"If you don't die from what I have planned then I might keep you as a pet just to spite you," he spat in return, giving a last tightening tug to the fabric that bound Hux's wrists, before moving off of him and taking hold of his shoulder to roll him over onto his back. He needed to clean his wound, but the pain had been long since forgotten in the rush of adrenaline, the steady drip of blood being the only reminder that it was there.

Once more, he settled on Hux, seating himself on top of his pelvis just to give him a teasing grind with his ass in the process. "Where should I aim?" he murmured to himself, reaching for his curved blade and running it slowly along the man's exposed belly. "Stabbing for anything other than killing has never been a strong point of mine, forgive me if I nick anything important, but you may want to try to stay still."


	3. Chapter 3

There was the wickedly curved knife, cold metal running along the skin of Hux’s stomach. Ren's voice had dropped back down to dangerously calm so abruptly that his heart seized with fear again. He got control of it, focusing on the pain that his and Ren's weight bearing down on his hand brought, on the screaming panic from the nerves in his left leg as they tried desperately to inform him that this knee was unsalvageable. His eyes following the movements of the knife as Ren contemplated just where to stick him first.

The adrenaline was doing strange things to him. He'd been hurt before but never so many injuries at once in such quick succession, never had it needed to be pumped into his system at such high doses for so long before. He was the complete antithesis of aroused at the moment, but Ren's ass grinding on him, the combined fear, disgust, and anger, having just been sucking him off only moments ago. All of it combined to start to make him hard. He knew it was a reflex response, just the hormones in his system combined with extreme emotional stress, but he cursed it and hated himself all the same.

With that, Ren was digging the blade in, aimed slightly to one side of his stomach, attempting to avoid any of the major organs he knew were close by. With the shape of his knife it only took a small motion of his wrist to plunge inside, but he went _slow_ , wanting to drag out the process, to watch the look on Hux's face change as he went steadily deeper.

He held his breath. Surely there could be no kind of accuracy through the layers of fat and muscle. Even if he had scarce little of either there, the stomach was one of the most heavily muscled parts of the body regardless. He hadn't gone to medical school, but his knowledge of human anatomy was–– fuck there it went. Slipping easily through his skin. The pain wasn't even very bad, but watching the curve of the blade slice through him like butter was worse than the all the rest of his hurts combined. How sharp could it possibly be? His eyes went wide watching it. Surely he'd go into shock soon, abdominal wounds were serious enough that the body would shut down. Right?

It went so easily, pressing through flesh and muscle like it was nothing, this knife was Ren's favorite for a reason. He pressed it in to the hilt, making sure that he had cut into everything that he needed to clear his path. The blood was already pooling, leaking from around the blade and adding yet another stain to the mattress. Hux's face was priceless, like he could not believe that this was all happening. Surely he was regretting the decision to track Ren now.

"Beautiful," he mumbled, pulling the knife free and bringing it up to take a quick taste of his blood. The blade was replaced in the mattress, driven into the material before his attention was returned to Hux and that amazing, _perfect_ wound. His fingers prodded the area around the slit, smearing through blood and just barely teasing the edge of the split skin.

Something hit him then, a hardness that was forming beneath his ass. His smirk refused to be hidden as he firmly ground down against him, the tip of a finger dipping past the blood slick wound to run along the soft edges of exposed fat just beneath the skin. "I can feel that, detective. You should have told me you were a masochist."

"I'm not." Hux gritted his teeth even harder, trying to keep breathing and stay calm. There were two ways to go through this: he could let the mortal panic that threatened the edges of his mind take over, become hysterical to the point that he could not feel it anymore, or he could remain calm, acknowledge the pain but not let it control him. He could scream, that would be unavoidable, but he would not give Ren the satisfaction of gibbering and begging "It's just a reflexive reaction. Means nothing." talking to himself as much as Ren.

His eyes remained locked on Ren's hand, watching the blood well up and run down his side in rivulets. That thick finger begin to disappear beneath his skin, he could feel the wound stretch. "You're the only one that's getting off on this." As if specifically to betray him, his body continued to react against his will. He'd always liked a _little_ pain with his pleasure, and all the pain was beginning to blend together and lose focus. Was it his knee that hurt? Or just his whole leg throbbing dully? He could barely even feel his hand anymore. Either way, his dick readily hardened with a little attention. He could not have said whether it was that or the beginning of tearing at the edges of the wound in his stomach that caused the quiet "fuck" that slipped from his lips.

"If that makes this easier for you, then by all means, tell yourself whatever you wish." Ren steadily worked his finger into Hux's stomach, pushing past the skin and fat and muscle, until it was finally buried to the knuckle. It was so slick inside, smooth and wet and he wanted nothing more than to plunge his entire hand in and see how it might feel to be buried up to the wrist in his detective.

Ren's cock had gone down significantly after he'd been denied that first orgasm, but it stiffened readily with no external stimulation, simply for the fact that this was _hot_. He pulled his finger back to the tip and immediately slid it back inside, his middle finger on deck, waiting until the wound was widened enough to join the first. "Do you want to fuck me, Hux? Or would you rather I fuck you?" To make a point, Ren worked his hips down, pressing the man's fabric covered erection hard between his cheeks, feeling the grind of absolutely everything as it all dragged across his hole.

The sensation was so foreign that Hux almost forgot to be frightened for a moment. There were no nerve endings in or on internal organs, but he could _feel_ Ren's finger inside him. More than just the tearing pain of the surface wound, he could feel things moving, being touched that should never, ever be touched. Blood flowed freely, the stain on the mattress grew. If he were not already lying down, he would have doubtlessly been dizzy by now.

"Don't pretend I have any say in what happens to me. We both know you'll do as you please." He refused to be even nominally complicit in this. His voice was bitter, but he surprised even himself with how steady it was, given how shaken he felt. Why was his body reacting like it was? Why did it feel _good_ when Ren rocked his hips like that? Why couldn't he just go into shock and pass out already?

"Of course I'll do as I please, but I never said I wouldn't offer you any options. You're really quite ungrateful, detective." Ren positioned his middle finger, easing it into the wound alongside the first, breath hitching at the sickly wet sounds it made as it was stretched open and fingered deep. "Seeing as you so cruelly robbed me of coming earlier, I think I'll be taking the initiative of deciding for you."

His fingers were pumping steadily, occasionally pausing while buried fully, in order to scissor apart and brush carefully along soft organs. There was a darkness that overtook his eyes, a widening of pupils, and he leaned in over Hux, curving his back and dragging his ass along his clothed cock. Parted lips found the bone of his jaw, planting themselves there, barely nicking with his teeth. "I think that we can stretch this out enough, don’t you?" His voice was barely a whisper, cutting through the otherwise silent room, fingers twisted up inside of him where they clearly were not meant to be.

Hux’s eyes narrowed in confusion, then widened, breath catching with shock and horror when he realized exactly what Ren planned to do. Unwillingly, the damaged muscles of his abdomen contracted and he gasped again, this time in pain as sharp darts of it shot along his body. "You fucking bastard" he breathed, Ren was so close to him, he barely had to engage his diaphragm to be heard, the better to not jar the wound that was already being stretched and ripped apart by the fingers that kept pumping in and out of him.

It was a disturbing parody of preparation for sex, what would have been pleasurable elsewhere only brought pain and that sick sliding feeling that was only half felt inside. What was Ren touching in there? His stomach? Liver? Perhaps he was even low enough to reach the intestines. It made him nauseous to even think about. But even still, his cock was as hard as it had ever been, straining through his pants at the pressure and friction.

"Name calling will get you nowhere. Why don't you just relax for me? I promise to be gentle." In some mockery of a caring gesture, Ren kissed down Hux's throat, stopping to suck a dark mark into the hollow of it. His fingers were soon joined by a third, stretching the flesh, working it open while he marveled at just how nice it felt when the man tensed around him. Surely it would be just as good once he was able to slide his cock inside.

Three fingers forced their way in and tears began to well up in his eyes again. Hux blinked them away as Ren placed mockingly gentle kisses on his skin. He could have laughed at the promise to be gentle, but that would have involved far too much use of the sliced muscles. His heartbeat must have been fluttering under his lips, hell, Ren could probably feel it through his fingers too, every pump pushing more blood out of him. Hux could feel the fingers stroking, touching something deep and slick and _wrong_.

A moan left Ren as his fingers dragged across the surface of something smooth and wet, it could have been any number of organs, but he let his fingertips brush over it repeatedly, fascinated with the texture. Three had to be good, right? With one last twist, he extracted the digits, then sat back to breathe another moan at the sight of the open wound, stretched and seeping blood. He could see the yellow of fat, the muscle that trembled where it had been cut and made useless, and with each of Hux's breaths, something in him shifted and glinted in the light, some organ that Ren would have needed a more direct light source to distinguish. It was beautiful.

His cock was achingly hard, something he allowed himself to indulge in slow strokes with his blood slick hand. Would it make for a decent enough lubricant to fit himself inside of a person? He supposed that was something he would be finding out very soon.

Hux’s breaths came shallow and too quick. Much as he was managing to stave off the panic that still stayed checked, not yet overtaking his coherent thoughts, his body was far from calm. As far as it knew, he was being eaten alive by Savannah predators or some other evolutionary memory that sent it into desperate survival mode, constricting bloodflow, speeding his heart and lungs. He hated that he knew exactly why these things were happening, and exactly how useless they'd be to save him, and was powerless to stop them, or Ren. He had no control over his fate or even his own body, insult added to injury.

Then the fingers were withdrawing and Ren was leaning back up and away from him, jerking himself, slicking his cock with dark red. He was quite the vision of gore now, all covered with his own and Hux's blood. Except his face, that was still clean, pale and scarred, dotted with moles. That nagged at Hux's mind now, oddly, he guessed he was grasping at anything to think about besides his physical circumstances. That face... He hadn't realized it before, but he'd seen it before somewhere.

Hux was watching him so closely now, almost studying his face. Ren let him, knowing that there would be no way for him to tell anyone who he was or what he'd done, even if his wrists weren't bound his knee was damaged beyond repair, far too gone for any amount of walking. So let him stare, let him memorize every feature of the last face he would ever see again.

With his cock thoroughly slicked, Ren shifted himself, scooting further up, planting his knees on either side of Hux's waist. He took hold of his length with one hand and smeared blood up the man's chest with the other, he could not be certain whether it was his or Hux's. "I recommend staying perfectly still. You can cry or scream if you need to, but I'd rather not rip your intestine open, I can't imagine sepsis would be a very fun way to go."

Carefully, he lined himself up with the stretched open wound, sighing softly as he teased the very tip in circles through the blood. Finally, he began to push in, moving slowly, pausing to aim between organs rather than risk driving straight through them. His breath hitched as the wound opened up for him, seemingly sucking him in deeper while the head brushed against all of those slick surfaces he'd been fondling only moments prior. In the end, he stopped after the first few inches, just taking a moment to breathe and run his hands up and down Hux's chest.

Thoughts of how familiar Ren's face looked suddenly fled from his mind as Ren replaced his fingers with the head of his cock. Hux's breathing spiked, too shallow, hyperventilating. The edges stretched and tore even further. Some kind of strangled, high pitched noise came out of him as he felt Ren go deeper, displacing things, sliding past organs and pushing things that never should be moved out of the way. He had to breathe, had to get a handle on his panic, he couldn't _breathe_. There was no way he could survive Ren doing damage like this. Internal rupturing needed attention within hours. This was the real point of no return. The reality of it crashed down on him and all he could do was struggle to breathe and goggle up at Ren with eyes that were going hazy with lack of oxygen.

It was all so much for Ren, the combination of soft organs and slippery wet blood almost overwhelming as the tightness of a hole he'd made himself hugged his cock like a form-fitting sleeve. He slid another inch inside before noticing that Hux seemed to have forgotten how to breathe. That wouldn't do, he very much wanted to at least have a chance to get into the actual motion of thrusting before the man passed out, and it certainly wouldn't do if he actually _died_ before Ren got the chance to spill himself into his guts.

Then Hux remembered where he'd seen his face. And everything became very, very funny. His stifled breath returned in painful hitches of manic snickering. "Ben" he managed to get out between gasps. "Ben Organa-Solo". It was not very wise to have his abdominals contracting while he giggled when Ren had just specifically told him to stay still and this only served to risk internal tearing, but he couldn't help it. He'd been staring at missing persons reports for so long he'd begun to tune him out. Ben Organa-Solo: the kid who'd disappeared years ago but his poor parents reprinted his “missing” ad every month. The fucking kid who smiled up at him from the fucking paper every time he cross referenced a sheet of car rentals. He'd been looking at his killer the whole time and now he was having his guts fucked by him. It was almost enough to make him lose the pain in delirious amusement. But no, the pain was still there. He was still very much there. Even with the absurdity of it all, he could not lose his mind just like that, and he was excruciatingly present in the moment.

Ren opened his mouth to remind him to breathe, only to be caught completely off guard as a name he had not heard in years passed the man's lips in a sudden fit of delirious laughter. So he _had_ been recognized. It was something he had considered, that a detective might have seen all the ads his parents wasted their money on running, but he had not expected to feel the rush of absolute rage that came with hearing the name of his dead former self spoken so carelessly.

His hips snapped down sharply, burying the remainder of his length deep inside of Hux, feeling what might have been intestines as they parted around him, thankfully shifting rather than outright tearing. "Ben Organa-Solo is _dead_ ," he snarled, baring his teeth and clutching at Hux's chest with his nails. "Never speak that name in my presence again! You think death is the worst I can do to you? I assure you, that is _far_ from my worst."

Hux’s laughing fit was cut brutally short as Ren thrust all the way in, knocking the air out of him, the intrusion far too deep and hard, feeling sick and full, and out of place. But it came back easily this time though, without sticking in his throat, the thick impenetrable panic having given way in the face of absurdity. "Poor Mommy and Daddy" he spat "Missing little Ben. Not knowing their baby boy is out gutting civilians and leaving them so fucking mutilated it takes us a week to ID them." If this was not the worst Ren could do. Hux would certainly like to see it. Did Ren really think threatening a more painful death would do _anything_ anymore? He was buried to the hilt in Hux's abdomen, his intent to draw this out and make it as painful as possible had been made very clear already.

There was nothing Ren could threaten. Hux already knew the absolute worst was in store for him. He could say whatever he wanted. Maybe Ren would cut his tongue out! That would be interesting, but something told him he liked to hear what his victims had to say, even if it did make him angry. He probably liked being made angry, it probably convinced him what he was doing was justified in some twisted way.

Every word, every _syllable_ that left Hux, hung in the air around Ren like a thick fog. Why did everything feel so hot and sticky? Why was the sharp pain of his leg coming back to him in sudden dizzying waves, the ache of his jaw and the torn flesh of his lip being brought to the very center of his attention? Ren's breath came in short gasps, hitching in his throat while he remained completely sheathed in the heat of Hux's gut. How dare he? How _fucking_ dare he?

There was a moment in which the room seemed impossibly small, closing in around him, amplifying the feeling of sweat and pain and the stretch of dry blood pulling at the hairs of his leg. He could not kill Hux yet, though he wanted more than anything to drive his blade into him over and over until there was nothing left but a mess of flesh. No, the detective deserved so much more than that. In a single quick motion, Ren had brought his fist down into Hux's cheek, wanting to punish him while avoiding the potential of knocking him unconscious. His fingers instantly found his mouth after, all four of them forcing their way inside, pressing to the back of his throat until his thumb caught on his cheek and he could go no further.

He was trembling, he realized, holding nearly his entire hand down the man's throat, shallowly rocking his hips while his breath began to come in great heaving waves. "You know _nothing_ of my life!" It was intended to be screamed, his words meant to be full of power, but his voice was shaking and his eyes were wet beneath the rage that burned in his pupils.

Before Hux could say anything else damning, Ren had struck him in the face, and then kept going, pressing his too-big hand into his open mouth and nearly shoving it down his throat. Hux choked, gagged, he could not bite down, his jaw was stretched painfully far, the skin at the corners of his mouth began hurt sharply and might have split. He didn't care. This was a victory for him. Ren had been so effected by what he'd said, so desperate to shut him up, that he'd resorted to physically stopping him from talking. He'd effectively taken all the pleasure out of it for Ren, and really, that was all he wanted at this point. If Hux had to endure this, then at the very least Ren was not allowed to enjoy it.

If he could talk, he'd have told Ren that actually, knowing things about his life was Hux's _job_. He was a detective that specialized in serial killers. Profiling them was literally what he was trained to do. He could quite accurately guess several things. Ren's likely solitary childhood, absent, vaguely concerned parents, untreated, undiagnosed mental illness. Suppression instead of finding healthy coping mechanisms. Graduating from insects to small animals, then to larger ones, then eventually humans. But he could not talk, only gag on Ren's fingers and struggle to breathe, and meet the furious gaze with his own surprisingly unflinching one. His anger didn't scare Hux anymore, not when he was trembling like that and barely holding back tears.

Even the gagged choking noises that caught in Hux's throat could not satisfy Ren, the man looked as though he had lost all hope for survival, that this was all becoming a game for him now. Ren had seen many different coping methods from those who knew they were at the end of the line, some of them begged right up until their final breath, others would go catatonic with the shock, laying there and allowing whatever happened to happen without a fight, he had even seen the occasional cocky attitude, someone who would toss insults his way in hopes of him getting it over with faster. He never had a problem obliging the angry comments with the full brunt of his rage.

As always, Hux was different though, somehow knowing about his past, actually _remembering_ his name and the younger version of his face that graced the papers. Ren had not wanted to think about that kid or his life, not his father's look of disappointment when he saw what he had been doing to that cat, not the way his mother's face had scrunched up and her hand had covered her mouth when he'd been brought inside and had to hear his father telling her what he saw. He did not want to think of his uncle's sad eyes or his prosthetic hand or the small glimpses of stories he'd heard of his grandfather and the things he had done.

Tears streaked his cheeks and he let them fall, thrusting his fingers hard into the back of Hux's throat while he attempted to reign his expression into anger and frustration, masking his sadness as best as he could. Sorrow was a weak emotion, care and sentiment and sadness were all things he had worked very hard to strike from himself. If he had been in a less chaotic state of mind, he might have been inclined to commend the detective on his ability to tear those long forgotten emotions from somewhere deep inside of him. As it was currently, he could only feel the storm of pain and anger that brewed in his gut.

"I'm going to keep you," he growled, pressing down on the back of Hux's tongue and beginning to steadily slide himself in and out of his abdomen, "like a fucking pet."

Ren kept pressing. Undeterred even by his own tears that flowed as freely as Hux's blood now, he started to fuck the wound in earnest. It was disturbing and fascinating. How he managed to still be hard Hux could not fathom, even if his own adrenaline fueled erection still pressed uncomfortably at the fly of his pants, he could not deny, something about watching Ren's cock, wet and red, sliding in and out of him did something to it as well. He couldn't even muster the mental energy to hate himself for it anymore, Ren's hand was cutting off his air entirely and that was most of what he could process. Blood mixed with saliva ran down his chin.

His vision was darkening at the edges. Ren would keep him? That was...bad. He did not want that. He made a small sound of protest, but it was muffled and mostly lost. Ren would find it very difficult to keep him alive if he came into the wound, large amounts of foreign matter like that loose in the abdomen could lead to a major infection. It didn't seem very important now though. He stopped reflexively trying to breathe around Ren's hand. His eyes started to roll back. This was different from when he'd been hyperventilating, that had been all panic and being unable to breathe despite his constant best efforts, this was being unable to breathe and no longer having any effort to give. He _had_ lost a lot of blood, if he passed out, would Ren stop? or keep fucking him? His vision swam and darkened further. Dimly, he remembered that it was not actually lack of oxygen at all that suffocated you, but concentration of Carbon dioxide. Breathing was as much a way of getting rid of CO2 as bringing O2 in. The increased toxicity was what started killing cells.

Ren had been planning on coming into the wound, what would it matter if he was only going to kill Hux at the end of the night anyhow? It was clear that the best way to thoroughly punish the man would be not to end his misery in the most painful of ways, but to draw it out, to force him to continue to live until long after he had lost the will. Ah yes, there it was, that spark, the rush, Hux had been an enigma, but everyone had a breaking point, some people simply worked differently than others. Spilling into his abdomen would have to wait until he was certain he was through playing with his toy.

Hux's eyes were rolling back, the fight seeming to have left him, and Ren finally slid his fingers from his mouth, wiping them on his cheek as he cupped his face. He leaned over him, arching his back as he continued to thrust, groaning at the smooth glide of his cock as it moved in and out, the sloppy wet shlicking sounds that accompanied every motion. "You'll die only when I've deemed it time and given you my explicit permission." His voice was calm once more, smooth, in stark contrast with the raw emotion he'd put into screaming down at Hux only moments ago.

There were still tears on his face, though the flow had stemmed, he saw no reason to acknowledge it by openly wiping at them. By now, he was working his hips in earnest, angling himself just right so that his backward thrusts would have his ass pressed to the detective's crotch. He was still hard. Ren could have laughed, snickered hysterically like Hux had done when he uttered the name of the dead boy that Ren used to be, but he kept it inside, kept his gaze on the man he was fucking into, now making a conscious effort to rock back against him each time. He would not last much longer, a decision about what to paint in come would have to be made soon.

Just as he'd begun to slip fully into unconsciousness, Ren pulled his hand out. Instinct took over and Hux began to breathe again. He came back slowly with that hand cupping his chin and forcing him to look in Ren's eyes as his vision clarified. Damn. he'd been so close. But the sickly slide and the deep wrongness of Ren's cock recklessly shoving aside things inside him was more apparent than ever. Every thrust jarring his organs and further demonstrating that Ren could do anything he wanted to Hux.

He was possessed by the desire to wipe the drool from his mouth, despite the fact that his arms had long gone numb under him and he was a bloody mess everywhere else anyway. Hoarsely, he whispered back at Ren, not having the energy to put any power behind his words "I'd like to see you try and stop me" The torn corner of his mouth quirked up momentarily before he was forced to grimace in pain again with Ren's next thrust. Oh fucking hell, there was Ren's ass, grinding back against him again. How was _he_ still hard too?

"Careful what you wish for, detective." Ren's hand brushed through the saliva that leaked down Hux's chin, smearing the diluted bloody mess across his skin before dipping down to rest over his throat, teasing him with the possibility of being choked a second time.

He was nearly there, rocking back and forth, reveling in the hardness he felt beneath his ass, unable to keep himself from wondering what it might look like free of the confines of those slacks. A few thrusts more and he had to force himself to stop, pulling free as slowly as he could manage and plopping his ass back onto Hux's crotch. His hand wrapped around his length, stiff and shining a bright red, and he stroked himself quickly, resting a hand on the detective's chest so that he could support himself while he jerked and ground down all at once.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity with Ren's hand on his throat, just barely pressing, not enough to restrict his breathing, but enough to make him anxious that it would, after an interminable amount of time of that horrible thrusting, Ren pulled out of him. The bottom seemed to fall out of his stomach as his organs slowly slid back into the place that Ren's cock had pushed them out of. The shifting weight, the feel of them sliding against each other had him swallowing bile.

By the time his orgasm hit him, he was panting, eyes half lidded, though he refused to look away. Ren's entire body jolted when he came, a deep and rumbling groan echoing from his throat as his cock pulsed and spilled lines of white across Hux's chest and stomach. It was nowhere near as good as he was sure coming inside of Hux would have been, but he had to keep him alive and in as good of health as someone with numerous open wounds could be. He came down with several heaving breaths, still steadily rocking down against the hardness beneath him. Something about all of this felt like such an amazing accomplishment, like he had finally achieved what promised to be his greatest kill.

Ren still rocked against him, and damn him but Hux's hips made an effort to roll up to meet him. Soon enough, he was watching Ren shudder and moan and hot come was spurting onto him. All the while, that steady rhythm against his cock brought him closer. He couldn't fight it anymore, no matter how much he might despise himself for it, he let out a whimper of pleasure, the pain all having become so constant as to have become the background radiation of his consciousness. He just wanted it to be over with, to not have to feel pleasure along with it anymore. He ground back up against Ren. If he could just come then at least he could be back in control of his body, to not be actively betrayed by it anymore.

Was Ren feeling things right? Hux was actually meeting his grinding motions, acting like he wanted nothing more than to come. "Who knew you were such a slut for pain?" His voice was shaky, still broken up from the force of his orgasm, only shaking further as he worked his ass firmly into the erection beneath him. It would be easy to pull it free from the man's slacks, to touch it however he saw fit, but part of him didn't want to give Hux the satisfaction, liking the thought of him ruining the one pair of underwear he had to wear.

Ren slowly trailed his nails down the detective's chest, catching on his nipples and twisting sharply. "Perhaps if you ask me nicely I'll be inclined to help you a little more directly." He lowered his voice, getting a hold of himself, regaining control of his breathing while his expression turned almost smug. If he could bring Hux down to the point of begging then he could certainly justify getting a hand in his pants and giving him the privilege of coming.

He would not beg. No matter what, he wouldn't beg Ren for anything. He'd finish under his own power if it killed him. Flexing his back to buck his hips pulled at the torn muscle of his stomach, but the pain was no worse than it had been. Coming in his pants would be humiliating, but not as low as having to beg for it. Ren's hands twisted, he gasped. His nipples had never been particularly sensitive, but everything was oversensitive now "You wish". He panted, voice still hoarse from the choking.

If Ren would just not move away, he could rock his way to his orgasm like this, he was sensitive enough, overstimulated. Maybe if he came fast enough Ren would not get the chance to deny him the privilege, that would be worth how degrading it would be.

"Ungrateful," Ren hissed, though he let himself stay there, rolling his hips down onto Hux's. He dragged his hands down, avoiding the wound on his stomach as his fingertips grazed along skin, nails poised to claw if he so chose. Allowing Hux to come might have been a privilege, one that he was certainly not worthy of after his behavior that night, but Ren viewed it as an achievement to know that he could have such a profound effect on someone, even after he had torn them to so many pieces.

The slow drag of cloth over his hole was not necessarily the most stimulating of experiences, but the hardness that lay beneath the fabric was certainly something he could learn to enjoy. He could get a look at it later, he would have to remove Hux's pants to properly tend to whatever awful damage he was sure his foot had done to his knee, he knew he'd heard the crunch of bone. Pulling protruding bones back through skin was always a messy ordeal.

Mentally, he ran through a list of the things he would need if he wanted to keep Hux for several days, a pet could not survive on will alone, not that the detective was going to have much will after all of this. He would need food, more importantly water, some means of relieving himself so that Ren would not have a corner full of messes to clean up, and perhaps a better system of keeping him tied up. That was all simple enough, he could take care of the necessary preparations tomorrow, after he ensured that there would be no accidental deaths happening through the night. He couldn't have his pet killing himself before he'd had the chance to vent out the rest of his frustrations on him.

Ren scolded him, but did not pull away. Nails raked down his chest, a few more shallow thrusts, and he let himself whimper through strangest orgasm of his life. The tensing shudder of release brought mostly pain, a spike of both that and pleasure that let his eyes slide shut and his mind to go pleasantly blank for a moment. But then, all too soon, he was back, reality extremely sharp and clear, no more fuzzy edges or blurred thoughts. He opened his eyes to look up at Ren, who still sat straddling him heavily, making sure his breaths came difficult as they evened and slowed.

At least he could think now, no more confusing mix of sensations. What hurt, _hurt_ and nothing felt good. What could he say? Ren had fucked a hole in his stomach and then he'd come in his pants on nothing but grinding against his tormentor's ass. That should have been shameful, and he did feel low, incredibly low, ashamed and disgusted with himself. But at the same time, it felt like he'd gotten one over on Ren, at least a little. He'd kept his own autonomy enough to make himself come, he'd never begged, and he'd never given in entirely. Even if he was still completely in Ren's power, nothing more than a toy to be used and manipulated however Ren pleased, he was still himself, still had his mind and still refused to be complicit. He smirked, ever so slightly. Ren would have to do much worse to him to break him completely.

Ren had felt Hux's orgasm, a great tensing of muscles beneath his hands and against his ass. It was enough to pull a moan of approval from him, surely he had made a decent amount of headway in breaking the man, surely Hux would have learned by now that it was better to submit quietly than to fight back and argue.

And yet, there was a slight smirk to his face, a pull at the corner of his split lips, barely there, yet Ren could still make it out. The proud look that Ren sported was quickly replaced with a sneer. How dare this man have the audacity to do all he'd done, to bring up painful memories, to mock him, to put a goddamn _hole_ in his leg, and not even have the decency to look ashamed of himself? That would not do, Hux with any sort of hope would not do. Ren wanted to hurt him more, he wanted to tear several new holes into every inch of the man and fuck them all until he died of blood loss, but killing him would be too easy, it would be giving him what he wanted.

"I won't kill you until you've begged for it." He moved from Hux, settling to the end of the mattress to pull the boots from his feet. A growl of remembrance and a sharp throb in his thigh followed the removal of the already unlaced one, it was thrown far across the room. "I'll clean and wrap your wounds before I lock you down here for the night. We'll begin anew tomorrow." Then he was leaning over Hux, undoing the fastenings of his slacks in order to yank them down his hips, not taking much care, if any, as they were tugged over his knees.

The movement jarred Hux’s left knee and he could not stop a sharp intake of breath. His leg was kind enough to have gone dull and throbbing, but any movement or brush against it flared up. He didn't want to look at it, sure the sight would be a ghastly mess of blood and bone, but he watched anyway.

Blood masked much of it, the bullet hole had been just to the inside of the kneecap. That was good, it might not be shattered then, but the ligaments were certainly shredded, and the bone behind likely nicked or gouged into on the bullet's exit. The real damage lay in what Ren's foot had done. Already weakened, the joint could not have stood up to much force, and he had not held back. He winced at the misshapen look of it, the fibula was probably disconnected from patella and femur. A slender, jagged edge protruded below the kneecap, that would be the tibia, who knew where else it was fractured. He'd be supporting no weight on that leg anytime soon. Bruising was already darkening the skin well below and above it. He finally dragged his eyes way from it to look back at Ren.

"You're going to leave me alone to my own devices for a full night?" Ren was reckless but he'd never struck Hux as stupid. Forgetting to check for knives in boots or getting carried away and not binding a victims wrists was one thing. But just leaving him down here? In a cement room with stairs, a furnace, a mattress, there were things he could do. He could try falling from the top step, hope it broke his neck. He could try beating his head against a valve or a pipe, even dig into the mattress to get at a wire spring. The basement might have been bare, but Hux was a resourceful man, he could find any number of ways to kill himself and deny Ren the pleasure, or even try to fashion a weapon. A night was a long time to be unsupervised.

"You'd be an idiot to assume I won't be taking precautions. I only bound your wrists how I did because I was in a hurry." Ren was overeager, not entirely stupid, he'd been so excited to get Hux that he had not even stopped to think about stocking the room with the proper supplies for keeping a person. And he had not exactly been planning on keeping anyone for more than a day, this was all so spur of the moment that he simply had not had time to prepare.

Thankfully there were multiple ways to keep someone still for a night, Ren had experimented with different restraining methods that had been plenty enough in the past, but something told him that Hux would be much more crafty when it came to escaping. It would be such an utter disappointment if he were to come downstairs to check on him and find him either dead or gone. Slightly more drastic measures would need to be taken, but he would have to trust Hux alone long enough to retrieve a few things from the bathroom.

Ren gathered the two knives from the mattress, closing them tightly and tucking them away in the pocket of his coat, which he folded over his arm. His pants were ruined with blood and a hole in the leg, so he didn't bother to pull them back on, adding it to his arm instead, then Hux's pants, and finally his boots. With an armful of clothing, he started for the stairs, pausing at the bottom step to cast his gaze back at the detective. "I'll be gone less than five minutes. If you can somehow get yourself untied and killed in that amount of time, then be my guest." With that, he was ascending, leaving the room and going the extra mile to flip the light off on his way out. Hux wouldn't even have time for his eyes to adjust in the dark before he was back, the odds of him actually killing himself when he could hardly move or see were slim enough that Ren wasn't worried. He did at least lock the door behind him, just in case.


	4. Chapter 4

Ren took everything with him and left Hux alone, wearing nothing but socks and sticky underwear, blood and jizz cooling and drying all over him, in the dark. His mind raced. Five minutes. What could he do with five minutes? Not much. He could probably get the bandanna undone, but he was still badly injured and locked in. In the darkness, he could not see if there were any areas he had missed in his taking stock of the room. This must be an old house, not necessarily up to code, or the crawl space must be accessed from somewhere else. No laundry machines, no mess of pipes and wires, no chest freezer. Whoever Ren had taken this house from, they had not liked to go up and down stairs

An experimental flexing of fingers proved that his hands and arms were still too numb to do anything much of use. He flopped onto his side, not rolling onto his stomach for fear of what might get into, or come out of the still very much open wound in his stomach. With enough painful wiggling, he got his hands to the rips in the mattress where the knives had been, dug his fingers in, they were clumsy and swollen and he couldn't tell what he was feeling, but there was definitely something hard in there, probably a spring. A few weak tugs proved that it would come loose, just not quickly or easily. He stopped trying for now, that could be saved for later when he had more time. Half of his five minutes had already ticked away.

He scooted back to where he'd originally been lying. No sense giving Ren the idea that he'd thought of the holes in the mattress at all. If nothing else he could hide something in there. If he ever got something he might need to hide. But then again, it would look suspicious if he had not moved at all. He rolled the other way, falling off the mattress with a jarring thump, and had inched his way halfway to the furnace on his side before he heard Ren returning.

Ren had only needed to grab a few things, they were right inside the bathroom cupboard, a task which would take him less than a minute. There was enough time to bring the pile of clothing to the laundry room, dumping them all into a heap on the floor to be later washed or burned, depending on just how salvageable some of it was. Shame Hux had to go and bleed all over his slacks, they looked as though they would wear about the same size, and they were very nice looking pants. Any excuse for Ren not to have to go out and actually shop, existing in public was not a preferred pastime of his for obvious reasons, and if Hux had recognized him as the kid from the papers, then _anyone_ could.

The wound on his thigh needed to be cleaned, he was reminded of it as the motion of walking upstairs caused the clotted blood to flow freely once more. There was hardly time to do all the work that needed done, it looked like it would require stitches. Ren fucking _hated_ stitches. Rather than waste time on it, he simply wet a towel to quickly scrub the trails of blood from his leg, then tied it tightly around his thigh to keep it from seeping too much into the dark gray sweatpants that he pulled on immediately after. He didn't bother rinsing his cock, he planned on a long hot shower after this anyway, but he did take the time to thoroughly wash his hands. There would be no point in cleaning any wounds out if his hands were a filthy mess.

It might have been six minutes when he finally opened the basement door and flicked the lights back on, though he was relieved to see that Hux had not made it very far. It must have been so pathetic when he squirmed his way across the floor, Ren was almost sad to have missed it. "At least you aren't completely immobile, detective." He descended the stairs, a bag of various medical supplies in hand, and came to a stop where Hux lay on the floor. "I can't exactly patch you up on the filthy concrete though, why don't you crawl back over to the mattress where you belong?"

"The concrete's cleaner than the mattress," Hux grumbled, mostly to himself, but did what he was told, using his still undamaged right leg and shoulder to inchworm himself back to it, ignoring Ren's amused gaze. This was undignified, but it was as good a means of moving himself as any. He could not get himself up onto the damn thing though, so he stopped once his back pressed to it, breathing more heavily than he might have liked. Functional it might have been, but it was far from efficient, moving like that took a lot out of him.

Looking up at Ren, who was in view now, he noted that he'd put some pants on, thankfully, Hux had gotten tired of staring at his pale bloodstained legs and having his cock so close at hand. Like this, he was a bit more human, and Hux could almost pretend he hadn't just been used like some kind of bizarre fetish fuckdoll. He had also brought a bag, probably full of things to tend Hux's injuries with. He hated the idea of Ren doing anything that even resembled helping him, but set and wrapped, his broken bones might not throb quite so much. Maybe Ren would even give him some water. His mouth still tasted like blood and was terribly dry.

"Good boy." Ren praised him like the pet he'd promised to make him, watching with a smirk as Hux painfully moved himself back over to the mattress, only to have to stop and catch his breath. "Poor thing, it must be so difficult to move with all of those injuries. Let me help you." He set his bag at the foot of the mattress before stooping down to hoist Hux up onto its blood-soaked surface.

Disgust twisted in Hux at the praises. Like a fucking dog that sat when you told it to. He grimaced, but there was very little he could have done to stop Ren lifting him. He grunted as, once again, he was jarred by the impact. Wincing at what it did to his leg and stomach.

Reaching for the bag, Ren produced a small pill bottle, which he quickly uncapped in order to retrieve two pills from within. Next was a bottle of water, because it was always rather difficult to swallow any sort of medication dry. With the pills in his palm, he opened the water, watching Hux closely as he knelt down next to him and cupped the pills against his lips. "Into your mouth. I'll give you water to assist in swallowing and as a reward for following orders." The mouth of the water bottle was brought up close to his hand, ready to immediately replace it whenever Hux chose to obey. "If you don't take them yourself then I'll have to force them down your throat manually, and I know how much you enjoyed having my fingers in your throat earlier."

Hux eyed the pills suspiciously. "What are they?" Pain meds? something to make him loopy or compliant? antibiotics? He had no idea what Ren might be able to get his hands on, with the numerous IDs he had and who knew what kind of money the victims were carrying around or had in their bank accounts. He opened up anyway, he could always fake swallow the pills, tucking them up behind his molars or under his tongue. Water sounded so good, he must have lost more blood than he'd thought, because it was suddenly a very large portion of everything he wanted in the world, even if it was being used like a dog treat. All Ren was missing was one of those clickers the dog trainers used. Hux wouldn't have put it past him.

"Something to help ease my worries over you somehow killing yourself in the night." That was all the information Ren offered before replacing his hand with the water, resting it on Hux's lower lip and slowly tilting the bottle so that he could drink without choking on it. The pills were prescription, specifically designed to knock out an insomniac for a proper eight hour night, and had been one of many bottles he had collected from the pockets and backpacks and purses of his victims. While Ren liked to consider himself far above the ranks of those killers who got hooked on pills or any other number of illicit substances, sometimes the prescriptions for pain or sleep wound up coming in handy on particularly rough nights, or when the nightmares would not leave him alone.

Hux used his tongue to covertly tuck the small pills between his top row of teeth and his cheek the moment they were in his mouth. He didn't know what it meant to ease Ren's worries about him killing himself, but he did know he would be in better shape if he didn't take them, whatever they were. The water was incredibly good, he gulped down what Ren gave him, swallowing eagerly, the taste of drying blood and his own fear was still there, but not nearly so unbearable. He'd have liked to be able to wash his face, but for now it was a welcome reprieve.

Ren let the bottle pour for a good few seconds longer before pulling it away and recapping it. Hux could have a proper dog bowl for water tomorrow, for now he would simply have to take what he was given and be grateful for it. Ren's large fingers came to rest on Hux's chin, thumb brushing his lip as he eyed him suspiciously. "Open your mouth now, let me see." They would take less than twenty minutes to go into effect and begin to actually make the man drowsy, Ren would know if they had been stored away in his mouth somewhere, but he would rather find them now than have to wait all that time.

Now came the hard part. In all likelihood, Ren would find the pills and force them down Hux anyway, making the whole effort of hiding them pointless, but it was the principle of the thing. Hux opened his mouth again, showing nothing but wet tongue and teeth.

Immediately, Ren's fingers were in Hux's mouth, slipping down beneath his tongue to feel for any sign of the pills. They weren't there, that was good. His fingers shifted to his cheeks, dipping down to press against his gums, one full swipe along the bottom set, then one along the top. He ran into the hardness of the pills there, tucked between his cheek and teeth like that was actually going to fool him. A sigh left him as he scooped the pills up and grabbed Hux's chin hard with his free hand, not bothering to be any sort of careful with digging his nails into his flesh.

"I didn't want it to come to this, but you leave me no choice." His fingers pressed into his throat again, forcing the pills over the back of his tongue and down. "Swallow," he commanded, looming over Hux, eyes boring straight through him, practically gleaming with his frustration. Why didn't he just follow his orders? It was almost impressive how much fight and will to live the detective still had in him. Everyone had their breaking point though, Ren would find his.

Inevitably, the pills were found, and once again, thick fingers were shoved down his throat. Already raw and sensitive from the last time Ren had done this, he started gagging on them immediately. He gave in and swallowed obediently, throat working to bring the pills down while his gag reflex did its best to expel Ren's fingers. He eventually got them down, with no small amount of saliva dribbling its way down his chin. Whatever the they were, he'd taken them, now all he could do was wait for the effects.

Hux gagged around his fingers and Ren only held them firmly, refusing to let him puke the pills up, he'd have picked them out and shoved them right back in if he needed to. Finally, he swallowed, making a mess of his chin in the process, it was almost endearing to see the attaching strands of saliva as he slid his fingers free. The urge to praise him arose, but Hux did not deserve the praise when he had just deliberately defied an order.

Hux could have bitten down on Ren's fingers, he even briefly entertained the notion, but he didn't think he had the strength left to seriously damage him, and it wouldn't do anything but make patching him up harder and Ren more angry. So instead he waited for him to withdraw them again, well behaved as he could be. Once they were out he could breathe properly again. He could see how old his little games of defiance were getting, Ren was losing patience. Hux quirked his messy, torn mouth at him in what approximated a wry smile "Was worth a shot"

Ren pulled the end of his sleeve over the heel of his hand and wiped the drool from those smiling lips, his own expression clearly far from amused. "See to it that you learn to pick your battles. Otherwise I may need to find a shock collar and _really_ treat you like the disobedient dog that you are." It wasn't a bad idea, if he got the sort that had a remote then he could easily administer punishment at the press of a button. One more thing to consider picking up to help make this experience the most memorable of anyone he'd ever turned into a work of art.

Pick his battles. As if Hux had many opportunities or battles left to pick. Ren would keep him alive for what? A day? Two? He could not hold himself back forever. He'd only barely managed to refrain from doing mortal damage this last time, and if he meant to escalate at all, it would not be long before Hux died. Sooner than that he'd be unable to move enough to have any chance of escape. Every opportunity was one he _had_ to take, they were quickly dwindling as he got weaker.

Swallowing the pills meant something would happen to him soon, something that would make it hard for him to do much during the night. What could Ren have meant? Something to make it difficult to move? No, paralytics didn't come in orange bottles, those needed to be injected. A muscle relaxer perhaps, or a sleeping pill. Either way, he'd certainly be finding out in short order, and that was at least eight hours full of potential escapes robbed of him. He could not afford to pick and choose battles, not when every single one might be his last.

The image of a shock collar was not a pleasant one, but it did not fit with Ren's character, he thought. The shocks certainly inflicted pain, but no damage, Ren needed to get his hands dirty, Hux doubted he'd be satisfied to merely press a button to express his displeasure. "And deny yourself the pleasure of getting your hands on me? I think not, Ren" alright, so maybe he was going to pick his battles somewhat. The name of the missing boy was a useful tool, but it had to be deployed precisely, when triggering a rage would be best. Now was not the time to have Ren screaming and frothing at the mouth.

"How nice of you to consider my pleasure. If you really insist, I'm sure we can find some better methods to keep you compliant." Kicking a dog would be just as effective as any other form of punishment. While he considered his options, Ren began to shift through the remaining objects in his bag, finally producing a bottle of antiseptic and a roll of bandages, which were set beside him on the mattress. His hands came to rest on Hux's leg, one just above and one just below his knee. The bone was protruding through flesh and everything about it just screamed months of physical therapy for any chance at walking without a permanent limp.

"I've never set a bone before," he admitted with a shrug, before thumbing over the bit of bright white that extended past skin. How did bones always managed to be such a pure color? It was probably best to clean it before pushing the exposed bone back inside, though he let himself marvel at the sight for a moment longer first, it wasn't often that he had someone so calm and collected while their insides were open to the air.

Every instinct screamed at Hux to flinch away from the touch, but he held still, Ren's hands bringing his attention back to the throbbing pain that he'd mostly been able to ignore as constant background noise up until then. "first time for everything" The anticipation was worse than the actual pain, knowing Ren would, at any second, force the jagged edge back in and probably not warn him. He kept bracing for it, every slight motion on Ren's part causing him to tense in preparation, and then grudgingly breathe out again when it hadn't happened yet.

With one hand still holding Hux beneath the knee, Ren reached for the antiseptic, uncapping it one handed and unceremoniously dumping some of its contents directly over the open wound. He could have started smaller, just done his finger or cleaned some of the blood from his skin while he waited for the meds to kick in, but part of him wanted to watch him squirm. Maybe if Hux had listened to his order to take the pills in the first place he may have been feeling a little more generous.

Hux winced as the stinging antiseptic added new and interesting dimensions to the pain. It was odd how there could be different kinds of pain. The low dull throb of a serious but undisturbed would. The sharp spikes when it was jarred, the high cold sting of alcohol on exposed flesh. Strange how they could all come from the same part of his body at once and make him do nothing but breathe in sharply and grimace. He'd broken his arm once, as a kid, they'd numbed it to set the bone but he'd hated to watch, even then, unable to look away. Somehow he'd imagined it would feel different from the way this sank deep and shot up his leg into his gut to make him queasy.

The bottle was recapped and set aside, a sense of satisfaction filling Ren at the sight of that look on Hux's face. There were so many ways to cause pain to a person that would not result in immediate death, perhaps the burning antiseptic on various fresh wounds would be a good punishment to consider for the future. He watched the liquid dripping down Hux's knee, washing away some of the blood, leaving that bone even more of a strikingly bright white than before. Maybe he would have to keep a bone or two of his around when he was through with him, like a keepsake of a precious memory.

With no warning, Ren was gripping onto Hux's knee once more, pressing down and pulling slightly in order to force the bone back inside of him. The sounds that accompanied the motion were positively beautiful, all cracking and squelching and Ren felt the urge to plant his mouth on the area. It would have tasted of the cleaner, the flavor of his wound would be lost and dulled and nothing like what he imagined, so he tucked that urge away for the moment, there would be plenty of other wounds to kiss in the next few days.

Without missing a beat, he began to wrap the bandage around the area, tying it tightly over the torn skin. So long as Hux stayed on his mattress and didn't squirm around, his bone should remain tucked away in his leg where it belonged.

Hux didn't even try not to scream. All the tensing up and preparing himself in the world could not have stopped him. It was a wordless sound that started just as Ren began to press down hard and continued for a few seconds after the bone had vanished and he'd stopped. The white-hot sensation wasn't even pain anymore, just an overwhelming tide of _feeling_ that swept over him. When he could see again once the bright white that had blanked his vision momentarily had receded down to levels that his brain could process, he clamped his mouth down and tried to get control of his breathing, which had gone quick and shallow again.

The crunch. How had he still been able to hear the crunch of the bones grinding back together even over that? He shuddered, focused on breathing and staring at his leg and Ren's hands, wrapping layers of bandage around it that would do nothing to stabilize the joint. "That wasn't so hard" His voice quavered far too much, still barely managing to breathe. "Have you considered a career change? I've seen M.D.s do worse" he let out another unsteady breath in a half laugh. Talking helped, gave him something to think about besides the sickening crunch sound.

"As much as I'm sure you would appreciate my murderous rampage coming to an end, I don't think I would be quite cut out for a career requiring gentle hands." It was strange how the detective still had enough of himself left to actually _laugh_ and make jokes. People sometimes joked in the face of tragedy, Ren knew this from his father, but cracking a joke when you were injured by your own stupid mistake and making playful comments at a person who was literally planning on murdering you were two very different things.

Still, Ren's lips quirked into a half smile, thinking about how much of an accomplishment it was going to be when he finally broke Hux's spirit. Maybe he could make him cry, now _that_ would certainly be a real achievement. One step at a time though. "I'm going to unbind your wrists, try anything and I'll fuck you a second time." It was spoken smoothly, not sounding much like a threat at all, though he very much meant it, even if he was beginning to feel rather exhausted and ready for the night to end. Jerking off before bed was always a surefire way to fall asleep quickly, he supposed a quick fuck would be no different.

There was nothing _to_ try. Hux had no weapons or any means of escape. His hands were entirely numb now, and he was starting to feel exhausted. He would be putting up nothing even resembling a fight. Maybe it was the blood loss, or the adrenaline wearing off, but he could feel the fuzzy edges of sleep filling in and dulling the pain somewhat. ...Hang on. He recognized this feeling. The sudden slide into drowsiness regardless of circumstances. He'd run the gamut of insomnia medications, finding that they left him too groggy in the mornings, and that they grew less effective after he used them for very long at all. He'd gotten used to running on four or three hours a night and hadn't refilled a prescription in years, but he definitely knew what the pills had been now. Clever. Knock him out to ensure there would be no misbehavior for the duration of their effects. They were likely starting to kick in so quickly because of the low blood volume, His heart would be pumping faster, trying to circulate the blood he did have left fast enough to supply oxygen to all the tissues that needed it, that would be bringing the drugs to his brain faster. "Ah. Sleeping pills."

Carefully, Ren rolled Hux to one side, just enough to reach his hands and free them from the bandanna. It couldn't be too terribly longer before he would feel the effects of the pills, Ren doubted that he had any strength left to fight him physically anyway. The bandanna was tucked into the pocket of his sweats as he righted Hux fully on his back again. "Let me see the one I broke."

He let Ren roll him onto his side, fighting back was a total loss for now as his limbs and eyelids got heavy. This was generally when one was advised to stop handling heavy machinery. He produced his right hand readily. Seeing it now the bruising extending well down the back of his hand and pam, he wondered if the fracture might be compound. There was a sort of disconnect from it, so numb from being tied back tightly and crushed under him for so long, the wrong color and fingers no longer slender and elegant, it might have been anyone's hand hanging limply at the end of his arm.

"I supposed you might recognize the feeling though." Sleep did not come easy when one's life was spent focusing on the morbid details of death, Ren knew this from personal experience. Hux was obeying more readily now though, limbs obviously growing heavy with exhaustion. Ren took hold of his hand, inspecting the discolored skin and how swollen and angry it appeared in comparison to the other digits. Broken fingers were something he could deal with, though he'd only ever experienced it himself once when he was small.

He knew he would need a splint of some kind if he was to properly set the bone, though he had no way of knowing just how badly it had been damaged. When he had broken his finger at a park, he couldn't have been more than nine. _Ten was when he left, ten was when everything was ruined forever._ His mother had fashioned a splint from one of his shoelaces and a pen she'd happened to have in her purse, it was hardly medical grade, but it had been enough to get him to the hospital and properly cared for. Ren had always appreciated how practical she was, like she was always ready for anything, it was one of those lessons he'd held onto, even when he had vowed to strike all traces of Ben Organa-Solo from himself.

From his bag, he produced a tongue depressor, he had to be sure his splint was made with something that Hux would have a very difficult time fashioning into a weapon. Something told him that the splinters he could inflict with a tongue depressor would be largely harmless. He lined the wooden depressor up next to Hux's finger, holding them both in place so that he could wrap a layer of bandage around it to keep the joints from moving. That was really the best he could do for now, though he doubted an untreated finger fracture would be the death of a man who had a gaping wound in his abdomen. Hux was lucky that Ren saved that for last, he really didn't need him to be squirming around while he attempted to stitch him back together.

Hux blinked slowly, now that he'd noticed the pills kicking in, they seemed to take hold of him all the faster. Damn placebo effect, now was not the time for knowing what you'd taken and how it should influence you magnifying the already fairly drastic effects. Whoever the prescription had been for, they had taken their sleep aids very seriously indeed.

Drowsiness, and the relief of the pain in his knee, now set and not actively telegraphing its distress, fading loosened his tongue somewhat. His voice took on a softer tone, more musing to himself than actually asking. "Why bother with the hand? If you're keeping me, it won't be for long enough for a bad finger to be a problem" not that he was complaining. If he did make it out of this alive, he'd have liked to have a full range of motion with his dominant hand. Once it was bound up, he flexed the finger clumsily. Still numb, but it all moved together without bending, a good enough splint.

Ren paused at that, blinking down at Hux and releasing his hand so that he could flex it as he saw fit. Why did he bother with the finger? He'd been mostly on autopilot, fixing all of the issues he could simply because he had set out with the plan of keeping Hux alive for a while longer. Rather than give a proper answer, he settled for scooting back some, placing a hand on Hux's abdomen just shy of his wound. "If you're complaining, I can always remove the splint instead."

He did not look up at Hux again until he had retrieved a small sewing kit from the bag, at which point he met his gaze, setting the kit on Hux's chest where it would be readily accessible. It was hardly the sort of needle and thread one might find at a hospital, but it would be better than letting the man's organs remain exposed. "I'll be taking care of this now. Perhaps it would be best if you let yourself fall asleep." Dumping antiseptic into a wound like this was likely not advisable, so he did the next best thing, using a small portion of bandage to soak up some of the liquid and dab it in around the torn edges. At least it was better than nothing, and realistically there was a good chance he would decide to reopen the wound for future use, there was no need to be overly careful with it now.

"Perhaps," Hux murmured. The fuzziness was penetrating his thoughts now, blood loss and extended physical and emotional distress did wonders for allowing one to fall asleep easily. He didn't slip away though, eyeing the sewing kit on his chest with drooping, but still alert eyes. Could he grab a seam ripper or needle without Ren noticing? Not likely, could he even manage to grab anything without upending the whole kit with his clumsy hand? Also questionable.

He felt the sting of the antiseptic, and was relieved that the kit was blocking his vision, cleaned of blood, he'd be able to see the exact edges of the wound. Even through the medication haze, he didn't relish the thought of fully realizing the extent of the damage, or possibly catching a glimpse of his organs. That particular sickly feeling was one he hoped not to revisit. Ever. The sensations of Ren's fingers, just barely dipping inside threatened to make him shudder with the echoes of it. Maybe it would be a good idea let the sleeping pills carry him away... But no, there was something in the agency of being here and conscious, not going pliant willingly. He blinked hard, willing himself to stay awake.

"I won't wait for you," Ren stated plainly in response to the way Hux seemed so hellbent on staying awake. The pills would take him whether he wanted it or not, but Ren did not have the time or desire to wait around for them to take effect. He pulled a needle from the kit and carefully threaded it, before leaning down close to the open wound and pinching the edges together as best he could. Fucking it open like that had certainly stretched it more than he had anticipated.

"What did it feel like in there?" His voice was low, as though he was trying to keep someone across the room from hearing."Could you feel me against your organs?" As he spoke, he began to slowly stitch the wound back together, pulling the thread tight to keep anything from being able to enter, or any organs from slipping out. He couldn't help wondering what it must be like to have a cock shoved deep in your gut, he never stopped to ask anyone if they could feel it when he had a hand buried inside an abdominal wound, and most of them were too busy screaming to offer a logical response anyway. Hux had been lucid the entire time, had hardly screamed, shed no tears, even openly mocked Ren to his face. Who better to give him a decent answer to his questions?

Hux was too tired not to give a straight answer. He shook his head. "No. No nerve endings in your organs. Just... Deep. And wrong." His words were coming out sleep heavy, almost slurred on his tongue, which suddenly seemed like it could not move fast enough to keep up with his speech. "Things out of place, things that're never supposed to move, moving. Like freefall." He frowned at the sewing kit, and what Ren was doing behind it, he could vaguely feel the stab and pull of the needle and thread, but it was not so bad as all that.

He drifted in the half-numbness that he imagined was as much a product of his own brain as it was the meds. He knew what taking them was like, and he'd stayed awake through it before, he'd never gone quite this floaty, on any of the numerous brands he'd tried. Maybe the dose was for someone of a larger mass than him, or just one tablet, or both. Wouldn't it be funny if Ren killed him accidentally by overdosing him on sleeping pills. But that was wishful thinking, he knew it took more than a bottle to kill someone, even if he was short a non-negligible amount of blood. With effort, he continued to talk, mumbling less and less coherent sentences "And the sliding, I could feel... Impact. Every movement shifted everything. Terrible, knowing how deep you were, how real it was." He failed to suppress a shudder at that, hating how much he knew Ren would probably enjoy it.

Ren listened intently to Hux's descriptions, feeling his body shudder in tandem with the one the detective gave at having to recall the sensations. It was not something he wanted for himself, as Ren had always been more of a sadist than a masochist, but he could not keep himself from imagining the feeling, the pure unbridled _closeness_ that must come with being so deeply connected with someone. Even with his length buried balls deep in that girl he'd paid years back, he had not felt anything close to the level of intimacy that came with this. He wondered if it was thanks to the way he'd fucked him, or if all sex with Hux would feel that way simply because he was getting such a sick satisfaction over who he was fucking.

As he pulled the thread through the last of the wound, Ren brought himself down over Hux, tugging on the needle to tighten it while his lips grazed the detective's jaw. "Careful, Hux, your dirty talk might have undesirable effects." His voice was a smooth whisper, teeth nicking flesh, before his lips began to drift down his throat. "I'm sure you would rather I not take advantage of you while you sleep." The sewing kit was nudged aside as Ren trailed his way down Hux's chest, alternating between gentle brushings of lips and soft passings of his tongue. He gazed up, watching him as he neared the sewn wound, tasting his own dried come and the blood that had not been wiped away in the process of cleaning. Finally, he came to a stop just shy of the slit he'd left in his gut, still watching the man's face while he brought the loose end of the thread between his teeth and bit it in two.

Hux’s mouth twisted in disgust. Of course Ren would take his half delirious mumblings about how awful it had felt to be fucked open like roadkill as foreplay. And here Hux was, too out of it to so much as string words together into a rejoinder of any kind, while Ren nipped and kissed at him, breaking skin in sharp stars of pain, then soothing with his lips and tongue, gentle and sexual in that mockery of intimacy that made Hux's skin crawl. His eyes seemed to have slipped closed. He forced them open once more to look down at where Ren was biting down on the thread.

He had just enough energy left to coax his lethargic tongue to slur out a quiet "and miss all the screaming?" He doubted Ren would do it. Unresponsive and unconscious, he'd probably hold little interest for a man who so enjoyed watching and hearing his victims react to the pain he inflicted on them. Could Ren even fuck in the normal fashion? Or did he always have to make his own holes? Hux supposed he'd enjoyed the blowjob well enough, and if he did sleep the whole night through, he would likely be finding out just exactly how many ways Ren was capable of fucking him. Thankfully, his mind was too clouded to fixate on the hypothetical details, it was all he could do to remain aware of Ren touching him and to shiver at the contact. His eyes were closing again, and he did not have it in him to stop them.

"Exactly," Ren murmured in return, keeping his voice soft as it became increasingly apparent that Hux was beginning to drift off. Fucking Hux while he was unable to scream or beg or even make those infuriating little remarks of his would simply not do. He wanted him to be aware of everything that was done to him, to live through it and have to handle the after effects on his own. It would happen in time, possibly as soon as the morning, what good was having an attractive pet like this if he could not take every advantage of it?

Carefully, he replaced the needle in the sewing kit, making sure not to drop anything that could possibly wind up jammed into his eye at any point, before tucking it away in his bag. He briefly considered leaving behind the water for Hux, but decided it best to save the necessities like eating and drinking to be used as rewards for good behavior. Everything he had brought was packed neatly away, he had some wound cleaning of his own to take care of once he left anyway. And fucking stitches to put in.

"We're done for the night, detective Hux." He cupped his face gently, turning it to the side to thumb over the bruise that formed on his cheek where he'd punched him earlier. "Do try to rest, I'll see you in the morning." Ren stood then, bringing the bag up with him and starting for the stairs. The light was turned off and the door shut and locked behind him, there were certainly ways that Hux could go about trying to kill himself in the dark room, but with the sleeping pills in effect Ren figured he could simply make sure to set a reminder alarm to ensure he was by the detective's side before he even began to stir.


	5. Chapter 5

Pain was never something that Ren outright enjoyed, especially when it was pain that was entirely on someone else's terms. Sewing up his own leg was not something he looked forward to doing, but he had done it, cleaning the thing out and getting it finished as quickly as possible. The shower he had allowed himself that night was up high on the scale of satisfying showers he'd had in his career. Sleep had not come easily, but he could not allow himself to be tempted to take any kind of pill for it, he needed to be ready to wake up as soon as his alarm went off. It looked like he would be getting six hours or less.

The morning came and Ren’s alarm was nearly thrown across the room as it dared to pull him from what little sleep he had managed to get. He could not give in to the urge to sleep longer, there was still planning and gathering to do. So he pulled himself from the comfort of his bed, which was really rather nice and occupied by plenty of blankets, the woman who lived here had had a wonderful taste for all things soft. He did not bother with fully dressing, opting for wearing the same sweatpants and lack of shirt that he'd slept in, there was no point wasting time with those things when he was on a time limit.

One of the side effects of the sleeping pills, one that Hux had missed a great deal when he'd decided to go off of them for good, was that they made his sleep dreamless and leaden. A heavy velvet nothingness that descended quickly and held him fast and then was reluctant to let go. So he did not dream, but he woke much more readily than he ever had in the lumpy bed in his small apartment, or more often, the cracked fake leather of a car backseat. However, it was not alarms that woke him on the crusted blood-smelling mattress, but pain: insistent and throbbing from practically everywhere. It didn't take long to remember where he was and what had happened to him. And how it had been entirely his fault for being an arrogant reckless fool who wasn't fast enough to pull the trigger, but all too fast to consider a battle won when it hadn't even started.

If he lived through this, he'd never stop telling himself what a goddamn fucking idiot he was. But that was a big "if", so he saved the reprimands. He opened his eyes on darkness. It could be any time of day or night, but he had to assume it was approximately eight hours since he'd fallen asleep. No wait, not eight hours. Less. Another reason he'd quit the pills: they'd stopped lasting the full eight, he'd find himself up and miserable, hours before his alarms but too groggy to do anything of use. There was no sign of Ren, so it must be early. Good. He could work with early. And to his surprise, it seemed Ren had been foolish enough to leave his hands untied. He really ought to have learned his lesson by then, but Hux would not look a gift escape opportunity in the mouth.

Moving around was hard, everything brought waves of nauseating pain from his leg, and a deep ache from his stomach, but all things considered, he was in better shape than he could have hoped. He had two fully functional limbs, and the right arm was mostly fine as well; a broken finger was hardly crippling. It was difficult, but doable to get at the bedsprings now that his hands were not numb and tied behind his back. But what to do with them? He was still much too alive to consider what Ren seemed most concerned about. He would not kill himself just yet. His will to live was a nasty, stubborn thing, and thinking about the hours, potentially days more of agony and degradation that Ren had in store for him only made him want to stab him again. Or failing that, tear out his long pale throat with his teeth. No matter how delicate the skin of his own inner wrists might look, or how sharp the end of the broken of spring. Even denying Ren the pleasure of killing him was not quite spiteful enough for Hux. So he set about seeing if he could locate, and then propel himself up the stairs with his one good leg to see if the lock might be picked. If it couldn’t then at least he’d have the element of surprise when Ren did make an appearance.

The stairs presented more of a challenge than Hux had anticipated. He'd thought he could more or less climb up them using his arms and right leg, but that had not worked, requiring an additional knee that he could not, under any circumstances, put weight on. This was proven when he'd tried to do just that and had to bite down on his forearm to muffle the shout of pain. So he settled for scooting his ass up each step individually, pushing with his right foot and using his elbows to heave his body up backwards. He had to catch his breath after every few steps, still frustratingly weak, hating every second spent in the crusted remains of last night's filthy, treacherous orgasm, and painfully aware that every second wasted was one Ren might walk in and catch him in the act.

Ren did his best to be quick in gathering supplies. First was the kitchen, for a bowl, bottled water, and some bread, he supposed he should give Hux some sort of nourishment if he wanted him to remain lucid as long as he was there. Next was a small length of rope, in case the detective needed a reminder as to why his hands had been bound last night. The items were dropped into a large bucket, which he carried toward the basement door. Hux should still be out, it had only been seven hours, he should have plenty of time to set things up for him. He had no idea what the morning would hold in store for the two of them, but there was plenty he had yet to try, so many options.

Once seated on the landing, Hux made the unpleasant discovery that the lock was a deadbolt, and there was no keyhole on this side of it. What the fuck kind of architect built a house with a basement that locked from the outside, he'd certainly have liked to know, but he did not have long to wonder. No sooner had he inspected the smooth, hole-free doorknob, than he heard unmistakable heavy footsteps. Fuck! He didn't have any time to plan, no strategy, just a few inches of sharp wire and a couple of seconds before Ren realized what was going on.

He waited half on the landing, right leg braced on the top stair, back to the wall just next to the door, under the light switch. The steps grew closer, the door unlocked, opened, and the lights flicked on. There! Barefoot. He drove the sharp point of the wire into the top of Ren's foot with a snarl and threw his weight against his knees to try to knock him off balance and into the railing, or hopefully, over it. If he could just get Ren on the floor or at least on his level, he could attack him properly.

Ren cast the room in light and everything seemed off for a split second, something was wrong, but he had no time to react before there was a sudden pain being driven into his foot and a heavy weight slamming into his legs. Hux was _dead_. His bucket fell from his grasp, the contents spilling down the stairs as he was forced to flail into the railing to avoid actually going over it. Hux was lucky that Ren stumbled enough to go to his knees, nearly falling down the stairs in his effort.

A scream of pure rage left him, he was in an awkward position, half down the first step, clinging to the railing. His foot was throbbing, he had not seen what had been dug into his skin, but it could have been anything for how obnoxiously sharp the pain was. First thing was first though, Ren could not fight anyone with something sticking out of his foot, so he reached around himself, fumbling for the sharp object, latching on and tearing it from his flesh with a growl. "You'll regret that!" he roared, hurling the spring as hard as he could toward the bottom of the stairs, before throwing himself in Hux's direction and making a desperate grab for him, snatching at any part he could possibly reach; arms, ankles, hair, anything would be enough if he held on as tight as he could.

He'd meant fight, throw himself on top of Ren and rip and tear and break until he stopped fighting back, until he could never touch or hurt Hux again. But he had not fallen as hard as Hux had hoped he would, the noise he made was one of fury, not surprise or fear, and that visceral terror took hold of Hux again at the sound. Recalling fingers down his throat and heavy boots stomping on broken legs.

Stupidly, he made bid for the open door instead. Arms reaching out desperately, pulling himself up, over the threshold, he saw tiles, a kitchen, _sunlight_. But then Ren was on him again, grabbing his legs which still had not made it through the door. Pain lanced from his left, he kicked out with his right, landing a few somewhere on Ren, but nowhere near hard enough or in vital enough places to make him let go. Then his right leg was grabbed too and immobilized, and he was being dragged backwards, back to the basement. His fingernails scraped on smooth linoleum tiles, there was no purchase, nothing to grab. He swore out loud, scrabbling frantically for something, anything. Then, giving up hope of keeping hold of his brief glimpse of the world outside, he twisted, despite how it pulled and tore at the stitches and tenuous scab of the wound in his stomach to hit and claw at Ren with his hands.

The sudden turning of Hux's body, the clawing and blunt pain of fists, caught him off guard. Ren kept his hold tight, refusing to let go even when a fist contacted his head, even when nails tore at him and he could feel the sharp pull of the scar on his face as it was clawed. He hissed in pain and finally lunged his body forward, throwing himself nearly on top of Hux and instantly clamping down on the man's arm with his teeth in his attempt at incapacitating him. Ren tasted blood and bit harder still, taking a mental note that he was sure the rope he'd brought had wound up just a few steps down in the initial struggle.

Hux regretted that he kept his nails so short, usually to avoid breaking skin when he scraped at his palms when his restless nerves got the better of him, but now it meant that he did little damage clawing at Ren with his blunt fingertips.

Then, all the wind was knocked out of him as Ren's body weight came down on him hard. He cried out in pain when he felt Ren bite his arm, tearing flesh and only sinking deeper. He tried to rip away, willing to lose the large chunk of forearm that Ren's teeth would take with them, but muscle did not tear so easily, and his arm remained firmly clamped.

He was pinned, Ren sprawled on top of him, long heavy limbs restricting his movements and sharp teeth digging in, he flailed, with no regard for how that might tear the stitches, free arm struggling to do anything at all to Ren with its limited range of motion and access to only a small stretch of back and ribs. He did what he could, punching at him and digging his right knee up into his stomach, but it was becoming increasingly clear how futile it all was. His shouting resolved into panting "Damn You!" Over and over again as he struggled.

Ren was running on adrenaline by then, any knee or fist that contacted him only served to make him angrier and more convinced that he could get the man back into his rightful place at the bottom of the stairs. He had the upper hand, it was no longer a question of _if_ he could get Hux down the stairs, now it was a question of _how_.

With his teeth buried in flesh, he couldn't afford to turn his head and check where the rope had landed, it looked like he would have to take some more drastic measures if he wanted to get Hux compliant enough to go willingly. Or unconsciously. Large fingers shifted up, latched onto bright red hair, and _pulled_. He had a hold of something with some leverage, leading him to finally releasing the man's arm in favor of getting both hands thoroughly tangled in Hux's hair.

"Just _give up!_ " he shouted right down into his face, lifting his head by the hair and slamming it back into the wooden floor of the staircase's platform. It was good that they had wound up there, the concrete of the basement or linoleum of the kitchen was likely to be too hard to incapacitate without causing lasting damage. Ren was practically seated on Hux, legs straddling his waist as he pulled himself into a better position to start repeatedly smacking the man's head into the floor, going hard without putting his full weight into it, he could easily kill him if he wasn't careful.

Hux felt his head jerked forward by the hair, then his arm was released, only for his head to be yanked sharply back down and smashed into the wood of the landing. He kept struggling through two jarring impacts, then everything was just the blinding _thunk_ of his skull against the wood and Ren screaming at him, teeth stained red and blood on his lips, dripping down his chin. His vision became unfocused, Ren's face a pale and crimson smear as it got closer and further away from him, _thunk_ , No, that was Hux getting closer and further away, Ren was staying still, he was the one being jerked back and forth, hair yanking at his scalp. Had he stopped struggling? He felt wetness on the back of his head between the blows

There was nothing to do but ride it out, his arms fell limply to his sides, he clenched his teeth so as not to bite his tongue, but he could not seem to close his eyes, watching the whole room dizzyingly move. _thunk_. The rest of him was limp too, boneless, ragdoll pliant. He'd been knocked unconscious the day before, this could not spell out good things for is long term mental state. Weren't concussions cumulative? This had to be worth another one, _thunk_ or two. But those thoughts were secondary, everything was secondary to how his head was crashing again and again into the wood. When would Ren stop? He'd stopped struggling at least four impacts ago. Or was it more? He'd lost count.

Ren continued to slam Hux into the wood, screaming things that were hardly even words while he watched the expression on the man's face go increasingly blank. It wasn't until he felt all struggle leave him that he finally let go of his head, letting it drop back against the floor while he huffed out a series of shaking breaths. Why did Hux have to do that? Ren had not wanted to slam his head into the floor, he didn't _want_ to unnecessarily hurt Hux.

"Idiot," he growled, pulling himself from the detective and standing on shaking legs. The adrenaline rush he got from beating someone's face in could not even compare to the rush of anger and excitement that made his knees weak now. Carefully, he picked Hux up, an arm beneath his neck and one beneath his knees, and he began to descend the stairs with him, wincing as his thigh and foot both gave small throbs of pain with the motion. The wetness he could feel dripping down the man's neck was slightly concerning, but he had not gone that hard, he should be okay, just another wound to look at and patch up if necessary. The head bled much more readily than anywhere else, it could have been a small wound that was just offering up more blood than it should have. In any case, he could give it a thorough examination once Hux was secure once more.

Ren kept going, until he barely felt each impact, then when he did eventually stop, he let Hux drop. He flopped back to the landing and once again, barely even felt his head knocking against it. Ren scooped him up and he didn't react, eyes still unfocused, he blinked, head lolling back on Ren's arm. His consciousness was mostly dizzy throbbing, the echoes of the crashing noise of his skull on wood still ringing in his ears. "Had to try" He mumbled at the upside down view of the wall that moved far too fast, and likely not entirely in the straight line that Ren was carrying him in. It lurched and swayed like a ship on choppy seas.

He brought an unsteady hand up in front of his face, watching the fingers double and re-form into just the five, then multiply again. That was probably not good. If he squinted, he could make them stay where they were, but only with effort that caused the headache to spike. At least he was not unconscious, though that might have been preferable. He let the hand fall, sinking into the ringing and the pain. The only thing he was more than vaguely aware of was exactly how much trouble he was in now. Ren would be furious, he would not let another stabbing and escape attempt go unpunished, whatever he had in store would probably be much, much worse than getting a hole in him fucked. His knowledge of that was crystal clear, out of focus as the rest of the world had become. It made him struggle all the more to reorient himself, refocus his eyes, try to make the room stop spinning. It was working, incrementally, now that he'd stopped actively having his brain knocked around in his skull, everything began to resolve back into its proper shape.

"If you'd stop doing things to make me angry then maybe you wouldn't wind up with so many extra holes in your body." He watched Hux look at his fingers with interest, how many must he be counting with his head all out of sorts? As he passed the various things he'd dropped in his haste to latch onto the railing, Ren kicked them down the stairs with his good foot. The spring that had been driven into his flesh was painful, but aside from the blood that had mostly ceased to flow by then, there had been no real damage done. He supposed he had to appreciate a solid escape effort, it at least proved that Hux still had the will to live, maybe all of his talk of killing himself had been nothing more than a bluff.

They approached the mattress and Ren caught sight of the hole, clearly this was where his detective had retrieved his weapon. Tighter bindings this time, no more untied wrists until he could find the time to dig out some other means of keeping him bound to one spot. He was sure he had spotted a chain and padlock in one of the storage closets, there may even have been a collar left behind from some mutt that had been long since gone.

Gently as he could bear to allow himself, Ren set Hux down on the mattress, trusting that his head would still be swimming enough that he wouldn't be moving in the next several seconds. He left him there just long enough to grab the length of rope he had brought with the hope that he would not be made to use it. So much for that hope. Kneeling at the head of the mattress, he pushed Hux up by the shoulders, forcing him to a half sitting position and getting a good look at the back of his head in the process. It was bloody, but there were no signs of lasting damage, no skull peeking through the flesh or brain matter leaking out. "Arms behind your back. I clearly can't trust you enough to allow you any use of them. It's a shame, I'd like to be able to offer you some basic privileges."

Hux leaned up as best he could with the help of Ren's pushing, his head flopped forward, neck still refusing to hold up the weight of it. He brought his arms back, as he was told to, tugging at the ligaments in his shoulders he'd forgotten had gotten pulled last night. "I don't give a damn what you'd like" His voice was steadier now, his mouth beginning to cooperate. He felt his chin brush his chest, and noted that it was rough with the beginnings of stubble. He had not shaved in two days. In fact, he had not done any basic ablutions in two days. He was dirty, covered in dried cum and blood, and more was just starting to coagulate in his hair into a matted snarl and to drip down his neck and back.

He must have looked a pathetic mess. Even he could hardly recognized his own body, looking down at the flaking smears on his torso, at the sewn up gash below his ribs –lethargically oozing new blood now, since he'd torn it open in his struggling– , though, that might have been the concussion. Which reminded him, he was seeing clearly now, no blurring or doubling, that was good.

"Mouth off all you'd like, it won't help you." In a none too gentle grip, Ren took Hux's wrists, holding his forearms against each other to completely inhibit any movement below the elbow. The rope was only a few feet long, but it was plenty enough to securely bind the man's arms together. Not so tight that all circulation would be cut off, but tight enough that there would be no chance at somehow wiggling them free.

Hux’s shoulders ached as his arms were pulled back, elbows together, forearms bound flush against each other, he'd barely be able to move them at all, let alone manipulate his hands to get up to any mischief. Ren was clearly through taking his chances with Hux. He couldn't help but wonder if any of his previous victims had held out this long, put up this much resistance. Yes he was being treated differently, with the aim to draw it out instead of ending him quickly and messily as all the others had been. But that was by virtue of how much trouble he was putting Ren to, wasn't it? He couldn't help but feel a bit proud of himself. One always did have to wonder, looking at the bodies, what one would do if it were them.

When Ren had finished, he pulled himself to Hux's back, trapping his bound arms between them and resting his chin on his shoulder. His knees were spread, one on either side of Hux's hips, head tilting to press his lips to the man's pulse, over that vital artery just to prove that he knew exactly where to bite if he so felt the urge. One hand slid up through his hair, stroking through the mess that had become of it in the midst of their struggle, thumb ghosting over the source of the blood that seeped down his neck. "Now the real question, detective, and I'm going to let you decide the answer. What would be a fitting punishment for an escape attempt? Think carefully, I highly doubt you'll appreciate what happens if you leave the decision up to me."

Ren was all around him then, lips on his neck, hands gentle in his hair, practically cradling him from behind, caging him in. Despite himself, he was surprised at the question. Of all the things he'd thought Ren might do to him in his anger, he had not predicted this. It was far more creative and cruel than simply beating him. He should have expected it, known that this was what Ren got off on: forcing him to choose, making him feel complicit in his own torment. He still refused to humor it. "Go fuck yourself, Ren. Do your worst." he spoke softly but emphatically, nastily, almost growling with Ren so close that he could have mouthed the words and still been heard.

Ren's breathing slowed while he awaited a reply, almost as though he was worried he might miss the words if he took too loud a breath. Hux's torment would be beautiful, bloody and messy and too good to be all carried out in one sadistically cruel fit of gore. No, he wanted every wound he inflicted, every discomfort, to be executed in such a way that Hux would have no choice but to succumb to Ren's will and learn to _bend_ to him. Like a fucking pet. The reminder had Ren smirking into the detective's neck.

Everything all seemed to crash down around him though, when he heard those bold words leave Hux's mouth, his held breath all escaping him at once in a solid huff. Of course they were getting nowhere, _of course_ the fucking stubborn man had learned nothing, even with a thoroughly fucked _hole_ in his stomach. Ren grit his teeth, breaths picking up suddenly, growing rapidly into these great, heaving things. His fingers clutched at Hux, twisting in his hair, sliding down his chest, nails digging into his skin.

Then all at once, he was relaxing against him, stroking at his filthy stomach, fingers carding through his hair. It took a great deal of effort for Ren to calm his fits of rage, Hux should be grateful, really.

Hux felt Ren tense up around him, could _feel_ the anger, Ren's breaths moved him too they were so heavy, his whole body pushed forward and back by his heaving chest. The hands on him turned from teasingly gentle to vicious, nails gouged at him, ripped at his hair. He braced for the screaming, for fingers to tear his skin, for the brutal punishment he was now _sure_ to get. But just as he readied for the pain, it did not come. Ren softened instead, stroking him almost reverently. That was more appalling than anything, that he could take all that unbridled fury that had practically vibrated off of him and channel it all into...whatever this was. A calm Ren was much more dangerous than a raging one. Hux's stomach knotted. Ren's voice dripped with malicious intent, deadly calm.

"Still fighting me?" His voice was deceptively cool, chest rising and falling evenly against the man's back. Slowly, he tugged back on Hux's head, until it was forced to rest against Ren's collarbone. "My choice then." The hand that had been occupying itself with the dried mess of the detective's stomach shifted up, index finger and thumb poising themselves against his upper and lower eyelids, holding them open to give Ren a nice view of the color of Hux's eyes. He could not resist his mouth's urges this time, and he drew himself near enough that he could almost lave the tip of his tongue across the shiny surface his fingers held bared if he so chose. "Which eye do you like the most, Hux?" There was no masking the carnal desire in his voice as his breath ghosted hot over the eye beneath his lips.

His head was drawn back, sticky, half-dried blood smearing on Ren's chest. He craned his eyes up to catch a glimpse of his face, only to be met by the full brunt of his intense gaze contact. Then, least expected of all, his left eye was pried open. It immediately began to sting, feeling the urge to blink, the lid twitched against the fingers holding it back. His _eye_. Fuck, Ren was getting creative. He hadn't even considered eye trauma. His right eye blinked again, again the left tried to follow suit. Ren was so close, he felt the hot air of his breath across the surface of his eye, drying it, the urge to blink became almost unbearable. His pupils shrank to pinpricks, leaving his eyes all pale, small blue-grey circles on white fields. "Right" he said immediately. It didn't matter much which eye he picked, both had perfect vision. Ren already had his fingers on this one, he'd reflexively chosen the other, agonizing over it now would do nothing.

Oh god. Ren was going to put his mouth on it. His breathing picked up at the realization, right eye widening almost as much as his left. A knife, which he'd been imagining, was one thing, somehow this was so, so much worse. Ren was going to put his mouth on his eye and he was going to enjoy it. Hux recognized the tone in his voice, the same look on his face he'd had when he'd said that he thought he could stretch the hole in him wide enough to fuck. His knotted up stomach flipped over with disgust and apprehension.

"I can feel your anticipation. Don't worry, we have all day. All night." It was spoken in a tone one might use to soothe a child who was afraid of the darkness of a closet. They would have exactly as long as Ren decided was necessary, no need to rush things. He had plenty of time to savor every small sound, every hitch in breath, he could drink it in just like this. The real question would be how to go about destroying an eye while causing minimal damage to anything around it. Ren was not normally one to exercise caution or restraint, but he wanted his detective lucid, for the very last thing his eye saw to be _him_.

Slowly, so that Hux could see it coming, Ren's tongue dipped past his lips, stretched lewdly from his mouth. It flexed flat for a brief moment, before forming a sharp point, which he carefully touched to the closest corner of Hux's eye, only to drag one long trail across to the other side. The flavor was endearingly salty, slick and growing slicker as he allowed saliva to drip down the length of his tongue and gather on the surface. His chin, still sporting a spattering of blood, pressed to the side of the detective's face, and he let out a downright filthy moan as he worked his tongue back to the center of his eye to smear his saliva throughout.

He watched, transfixed as Ren's tongue slipped out of his mouth, flexing, putting on a show. This should not have felt like as much of a sexual act as it did, but the performance was altogether disgustingly carnal. Ren was clearly enjoying this immensely. 'Oral fixation' the memory of psych 101 piped up in the back of Hux's head. As if profiling Ren's freudian fixations mattered at all anymore. All the while he was coming closer, Hux's eyes crossed to stare at his tongue, the sharp headache began to multiply, chastising him for straining his eyes so much with a head injury, but it was secondary to watching Ren's approach. The point of his tongue doubled into two transparent versions, the different angles he was seeing it at making juxtaposed images, solid only where they intersected. Then, passing behind the bridge of his nose, it turned back into just the one. His right eye squeezed shut in preparation, the left could only stare, the lid straining to slide closed, to shield it from the oncoming foreign object.

Then it was touching him. Wet and warm, he shuddered, the muscles controlling his eye twitched, fluttering as it desperately tried to close, but could not. The sensation as the tip of Ren's tongue slid over it was unfamiliar, bizarrely painless. Hux had always had perfect vision, he'd never had to put in contact lenses, never had to so much as use eye drops before, this was entirely alien to him. He was almost hyperventilating again, but still taking down enough air to stay lucid, short shuddery gasps. The vision was blurred out by the saliva. If he'd had anything at all in his stomach it would have threatened to come up. Ren began licking at him sensually, actually moaning. Hux's chin quivered with the visceral disgust of it all, let out a whispered string of curses. Ren must have felt the way his eye vibrated and strained to do _anything_ while it was violated. He started to struggle, but Ren's hands held his head fast, between the one fisted in his hair and the one holding his eyelids, they were already practically cupping his skull, holding him still, forcing him to endure.

Everything about the experience was perfect for Ren, from the sharp gasping breaths Hux took, to the way his eye twitched and strained beneath his tongue. If his hands weren't so occupied keeping the detective's head firmly in place, he might have been tempted to reach down and touch himself. He was going to have to be patient and save that for later, it could be a reward for a job well done once he was satisfied with what he decided to do with this particular eyeball.

Slowly, he dipped the tip of his tongue down, dragging along the lower lid. With the way his hand pulled it down and his tongue pressed hard, he was able to taste the pink inside of his eyelid, to feel the slight tickle of lashes against his tongue. He moaned again, and settled for scooting his hips forward, rocking himself into the man's lower back, making it known that he was well on the way to an erection already. A vague thought crossed his mind as he began a slow circle around the edges of Hux's eye, how wonderful it would be if he could just shove his tongue past and scoop the thing out like that. Clearly an impossibility, but it fueled his cock on just the same, prompting his slow and tentative caresses to shift into full bodied licks that encompassed the entire surface.

It almost felt like Ren was trying to push his tongue past his eye, into the socket. Like he could spoon it out. The muscles cradling it were stronger, though, Hux reminded himself. Swallowing the wave of anxiety that thought brought with it. Ren would need more than just his tongue, he wasn't losing the eye just yet. This lascivious display was mostly just torment, and Ren's own amusement. He might get an infection, but it wouldn't _damage_ him. He felt the evidence of how much Ren was finding this experience to his liking, a hardening cock pressed up against him, Ren began to rut into him, as if to drive home the point that he was nothing but a toy to be used for Ren's perverse desires, and there was nothing he could do, his arms were too tightly bound to do anything to push him away. His eye, to its credit, made a valiant attempt at expelling the intruder. Tears began to well up, but the thin barrier of saline water was of very little use. Following suit, his right teared up as well, quickly overflowing and beginning to run down his cheek. Ren could probably taste it.

Hux clenched his teeth to stop his shaking, breathing through them, lips drawn back in an involuntary grimace. He wanted to flinch away, pull his head back out of reach, but Ren was still holding him still against his chest. His tongue felt impossibly large, the sensitive surface of his eye magnifying every sensation. He could feel how rough it was, each individual taste bud rasping against the lens and sclera, like a cat's tongue.

There it was, Ren could taste it now, the salt of tears as they welled up. He drank them down readily, savoring every drop, groaning beneath his breath while Hux did his best to expel him. It was hardly the breakdown Ren had wanted, the tears were an involuntary reaction that he should have expected, but it felt like a small victory all the same.

Finally, he drew back, released the eye he had been showering in attention, though his hand did not move from where it was buried in filthy red hair. Ren could see the tears that trailed along Hux's cheek, sending a shiver of anticipation down his spine. His detective would break so pretty, it was only a matter of finding a weak spot and digging into it. This seemed like a good place to start.

"Do you get it now, Hux? Do you understand why I have yet to kill you, what you are to me?" Slowly, gently, he placed a delicate kiss to the eyelids he'd just been prying open, like a silent assurance as he followed up with a whispered answer, "You're my new favorite toy."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning, because a lot of the comments were worrying over this, the eye trauma portion of things is _not_ over! Please scroll to the end notes for a non-graphic summary of everything eye related. The event itself takes up about half of the chapter.

Ren pulled away, evidently done slathering his disgusting tongue all over Hux's eye. Finally he was allowed to close it, his face relaxed. He didn't want to lose visual on Ren, but he let both his eyes stay tightly shut for just the moment. Ren seemed smug. As if he'd won something over on Hux, like the tears had been real. They were not, they meant nothing. The fact that he was shuddering still, while Ren tenderly kissed his eyelid also meant nothing. He was not on the verge of anything but vomiting. Breaking was not an option. Ren could treat him like a toy if he wanted. Fuck him, break off pieces, drool on his delicate parts to see if they stopped working. But he was not a toy. He would not be broken.

Then, without warning, Ren was gouging into his eye with a finger, crooned words and gentle kisses gone in an instant. The pain was so sudden, sharp, and unexpected that he cried out, right eye flying open. Bright colors ballooned and sparkled in the blackness that was all his left knew. The lid was open, but it was incapable of seeing under the sudden pressure. His headache throbbed angrily. He bit his tongue, but stopped the shout. His arms began to strain against their bindings again, elbows pressing, but unable to dig into Ren's stomach properly. This was where he lost his eye. He bared his teeth again. He would endure it. He had to be able to endure it.

"Don't hold all those sounds in, if you feel the need to scream or cry, then just let it out." Ren wanted to hear him, every little noise or whimper or hissed breath, but Hux was stubborn and he received no gratification past his initial cry of surprise. He frowned, watching the way the man's teeth grit together, how he strained so very hard to keep himself quiet, it must have been painful to struggle so much to hold back. Especially when Ren was going to see to it that he did everything in his power to break him anyway.

The pushing quickly gave way to rough shoving, forcing his finger to dig past the edge of the socket, tearing into his tear duct and the muscles that kept his eye in place. The blood flowed almost instantly, slicking the way for his finger as he angled his nail to start ripping at everything in his path. Would it be enough to fully remove an eye? He supposed trial and error was as good a place as any to start. Shame it had to come to this though, Hux did have such pretty eyes, he would have to keep the other one intact.

Hux’s breaths began to come ragged, forced through his teeth, trying not to make a sound, failing as he felt muscle begin to tear. A low, desperate sort of moan filtered out with his breathing, the remnants of a strangled scream. His neck strained against Ren, trying to shake his head. Both to channel the stream of "no"s that he was refusing to let out, and the reflex to flinch back. His hair was held tight, his head unable to move. More than a few strands tore out with the force of his struggling. None of it did anything to stop the steady advance of Ren's finger, digging into his head.

That was where they inserted the metal rod for lobotomies a stray thought reminded him. Maybe Ren would fuck it up badly, push too far, puncture through the back and into his brain and render him braindead. But no, he was not just _pushing_ his finger wiggled, finding the right places to press and saw his nail against. Every moment of it was felt in perfect clarity. There was no convenient lack of nerve endings in the area surrounding his eye, not like with his abdomen. No, all the millions of them telegraphed the graphic details directly to his brain. He swore he could feel each strand of muscle as it was severed. Blood dripped down his face like tears. Each breath came with its own sound now, almost sobs, if they had not been closer to growls of determination _not_ to start sobbing.

At the first sound Hux released, Ren felt a rush of satisfaction, it was a small noise compared to what he wanted to hear, but still plenty enough for him to feel the effects as his pulse picked up. When ragged breaths turned to something akin to sobs, he could feel the beginnings of true satisfaction swelling within him, that was more like it.

"That's it," he cooed, shifting his thumb into place on the opposite corner of his eye, "let it all out, let me hear you lose it." His finger stilled in place, buried partially beneath Hux's eye, and he wondered just how much sight he still had, how much he would retain and for how long. Then, slowly, his thumb was pressing down, though the blood that pooled there made the surface slick, causing him to slip in the process. The sharp nail of his thumb, jagged from a lack of care to maintain any sort of constant length, was scraped across his sclera, clear to the other side, hard enough to gouge a shallow line. So much for being careful enough to try to maintain his sight through to the bitter end.

"I won't let you hear _shit_ " he grated out, but could not stop the sounds entirely. They kept forcing their way out, every breath brought out another. Ren's finger stopped it's questing, tearing intrusion. The blooming colors faded for a moment, the dark receded partially, just in time for him to see Ren's blurred face behind the great dark mass of his finger, then, another appeared, new pressure started and the blackness overtook his vision again. That had been his thumb, oh hell he was going to start pushing in on the other side. There was no time to prepare himself for that before an altogether other kind of sharp pain slashed hard across his eye.

His resolutions aside. He did scream then, and it was slow to fade, petering off, back into the strained ragged half-sobs. The blood reached his jaw, narrow rivulets streamed down his neck and began to pool in the hollow of his collar bone. The tears had never quite stopped flowing from his other eye. Though it was squeezed shut hard, a clear stream leaked out, mirroring the red ones on the other side of his face. He was _not_ crying. This was not too much for him. He could do this. His chest heaved as he held it back. He'd never see out of that eye again even if Ren stopped right now he'd be blind in that eye. It burned, he was sure his eye was punctured, that must be the fluid inside leaking down now, mixing with the blood. Or was that just the heightened sensitivity. The eye in question darted back and forth in panic.

Hux could persist all he wanted, he could subdue his screams and refuse to let Ren hear him, but he would break in the end, there was no doubt about it. Sure enough, the moment his thumb slipped, Hux let out a scream, and it was positively delicious. If Ren was not so preoccupied with getting his thumb back into position, he might have been tempted to kiss him just to taste the way that scream might feel in his mouth.

The sound died out all too soon, but Ren could still revel in those attractive little sobbing sounds, could feel the way he was heaving in his attempts at stemming his noises. He could see the tears streaking his cheek and it wasn't hard to convince himself that they were from more than just pain. "Never again, this eye is useless now. What small joys will you never see again? What have you taken for granted?" His thumb was finally tearing in then, wiggling past muscle, his finger pushing in deeper in its attempt to meet it halfway. It would not be long now, just a little further and he could pop the eye from its socket, he had until then to decide what to do with it.

What would he never be able to see again with that eye? His life did not have many small joys. His satisfactions came when he solved a case, when he got promoted. When his efficacy and competence was affirmed: achievement. He could enjoy a well ordered case file with one eye as well as he could have with two. But still. It was a fundamental part of him. His leg had been one thing, this was another entirely. Half of his world would be cut off forever. He shook "Damn you." That was the extent of what words he was capable of putting together. His voice quavered, mostly sob. His jaw clenched harder than ever on the sounds which were becoming less and less muffled.

Ren's fingers pressed ever deeper. He was going to pull it out any moment now. The fingers were so far in, how were they not in his brain? How could his skull possibly have room for that? The pain was like the migraines he sometimes got, when it felt as though the throbbing had bored into the bone, lancing through his eye. But of course this was the real thing. He could almost imagine that they _were_ in his brain, causing that pain that seemed to encompass his whole head, the wound at the back merging with the assault from the front to make the sensation into his whole world.

It seemed that the deeper Ren pressed, the louder Hux became, his efforts only succeeding in barely muffling his sobs. But they were there, Ren knew, he could hear them, no matter how hard Hux tried to keep them hidden. Steadily, he pushed deeper, his own breath picking up at the obscene sounds of blood and muscle all tearing free. When he finally reached a point at which he felt confident enough, his fingers stilled, hand shaking slightly with anticipation. Now or never.

He took it slow, pinching his finger and thumb as close together as he could, and _pulling_. It was slick and filthy, and he nearly slipped again as he started to separate the eye from its socket, ripping at everything that still held it in place. A sharp yank and a gritting of teeth and it was free. Or nearly free. His fingers slipped at the last moment, leaving Ren cursing beneath his breath and Hux's eye partially out of the socket, dangling in place, still attached by something that he had neglected to sever completely.

Ren's fingers continued, relentless, pushing deeper, wriggling, every twitch and fractional gain in depth felt in exquisite, crystal clarity. The pressure increased. Hux could hardly believe that his head didn't burst from it. how much further could he possibly go? But then, all at once, with a tearing sound and a tugging sensation that yanked and ripped from deeper than anything could possibly be really be, the pressure released. With it came a terrible sound that twisted its way out of his throat. He couldn't even tell if he'd made it breathing in or breathing out.

His face was already dripping with blood, but he felt the wet flop of his eye when it slipped from Ren's fingers. He was crying now, no more denying it. He hated that almost as much as he hated everything else that was happening to him. His eye. His fucking _eye_. It was there, it was out of his fucking head, and it was still dangling, every slight motion on his part making it pull at a new angle. His struggling returned, futile as it was, he thrashed against Ren's arms once more, sending the eye sliding across his blood and tear streaked cheek. He forced his other eye open, unable to bare not being able to tell what was happening. He blurrily saw his own legs in front of him, the view disorientingly one-sided. Was the dizziness from that? Or just the head trauma?

Whichever, it soon rendered him too disoriented to keep struggling, he sagged in Ren's grip, exhausted, right eye closing again to envelop him in darkness. He didn't have it in him. He should have said something bitter, anything to offset the horror he was feeling, to let Ren know that even now he hadn't won, but all that came out were sobs. They were quiet now that he wasn't trying with all his might to hold them back, but not so quiet that Ren could possibly miss them, or the way he must be shaking.

Ren did feel some small amount of bad as he felt Hux sag, like all the fight he'd had moments earlier was suddenly gone, it was disappointing to see. Gently as he could, he moved to wipe at the tears that soaked his cheek, whispering soft little shushes against his ear. He couldn't miss the way Hux still sobbed, shaking against him and continuously wetting the cheek that Ren was doing his best to clean. Pathetic, hopelessly pathetic, it made him want to tear the other eye out, made him want to do something to comfort him.

The gentle touches from Ren made him more angry than anything else. If he'd even had the energy to be angry. Wiping away the tears that shouldn't have been there, shushing his crying which should not have been happening in the first place. Hux did not cry, had not cried since he was a very small child. It might have been embarrassing for Ren to have cried in front of him, but this was a whole other level of humiliation, blubbering like an idiot in the arms of a fucking serial killer. Another layer to add on to the pile. What debasement _wouldn't_ he be subjected to?

And now here Ren was, acting as if he wasn’t the cause of this. As if he was just a comforter, one who'd torn his eye out not moments earlier. But in his mind he wasn't, was he? No, this was _Hux's_ fault for disobeying, for trying to escape. Of course, Ren hadn't _wanted_ to punish him. The whole game made him sick, but the absolute worst part of it was that it was working. The shushing and soft words bypassed his outraged and fraying conscious mind and went right to his instincts, calming, reassuring. He took a deep steadying breath, swallowed, took another, sobs evening out somewhat into something approximating regular breathing, if hitching and unsteady, but the tears never did stop.

"I can't leave it like this, hanging out of the socket." Ren’s voice was soft, a murmur that was partially muffled against the side of Hux's bloodied face. "I'll be gentle," he promised, and pulled himself away, scooting back while shifting his hands to Hux's shoulders.

With a firm grip, Ren pulled the detective back, urging him to lie down. It would be much easier to take care of the mess he'd left of his eye if he didn't have to worry about holding him up at the same time. Hux was such a lovely mess like this, bloodied and sobbing, finally beginning to break. It was only fair after all, Hux had seen Ren cry, it made sense that he would want to see the favor repaid.

Ren was suddenly no longer pressed against him. Unable to see, panic seized Hux momentarily. A Ren he couldn't feel was one he couldn't locate or tell what he was doing, couldn't predict how he might attack. But then there were his hands, on his shoulders, pulling him gently but firmly down onto the mattress. He went, mumbling an indistinct but ultimately useless protest along the way, Ren was right that his eye could not be left the way it was. He settled with his spine necessarily arched over his bound arms. Part of him wanted to believe Ren's promise that he would be gentle, but he knew, no amount of gentleness could make this situation any less horrifying. He wasn't sure he wanted to see it coming, but he pried his right eye open again to get a vague idea of what Ren was planning to do anyway, blinking to clear the blurry tears. He wished he could stop thinking of how many ways the eye could be severed that would be so much more painful than just cutting it free.

Ren wanted to smile, to praise Hux for laying back without a fight, but praising him for following orders and behaving in a manner that was already expected of him was not going to get them anywhere in the moment. Expected behavior was rewarded with a lack of pain, good behavior would start to net Hux privileges, and bad behavior would result in more loss until Hux got the idea through his head and learned how to act properly.

With a small amount of maneuvering, Ren had himself knelt on the floor at the head of the filthy mattress, where he leaned in over Hux and cupped both of his cheeks. "No need to cry, however lovely you might look doing it. I won't take long, just keep still." Something predatory gleamed in his eyes, though there was an underlying softness. As much as he enjoyed inflicting punishment, he really did want to see Hux follow the rules, to prove that his methods were working. Positive reinforcement made no sense if there was nothing to fear in failure.

Slowly, Ren leaned in, pausing for just a moment to trail the tip of his tongue along the rim of Hux's bloody socket. He savored the flavor and just barely dipped inside to taste what mixture of blood and tears had pooled there. With his grip unwavering where he held the man's head in place, he traced his tongue down the length of fleshy tendon that kept the eye rooted to its socket, not stopping until he had reached the end. By then, his pulse was picking up, deep and shuddering breaths leaving his nose while he parted his lips further and drew the salty orb of Hux's eye into his mouth, where he immediately began to suck it clean of the mess it had been smeared in.

His vision did not need to clear much for him to be able to see Ren, to recognize the hungry way he was closing in, or understand what he was about to do. There was nothing Hux could do about it but quickly close his eye again and wait for whatever it would feel like. Despite all the revolting things that had already transpired, he somehow still found it in him to shudder when he felt the warm tip of Ren's tongue make contact, on skin first, then, tentatively into the raw wet flesh of where his eye had been. His chest was still contracting every few seconds with the ghost of a sob, but he was managing them now, sinking into the pain and dizziness instead of battering up against them and trying to think through them.

The beating against the stair landing earlier must have taken quite the toll on his inner ear. The mattress spun, or rather, pitched and heaved. He and Ren the only two passengers on a storm-tossed boat. Ren's hands on either side of his face were firm but oddly gentle, they could almost have been grounding, the only still things in the whole whirling dizzy ache of Hux's world. They might even have been comforting if he didn't know exactly why they were there. Sure enough, Ren's probing tongue made its way down the thing still attaching his eye to him. Unnervingly, he felt it when Ren sucked it, ragged bits of muscle and sinew and all, into his horrible mouth.

He jerked his head away almost involuntarily, didn't get far with Ren holding him, but it was enough to make the tendon _yank_ at the inside of his head. If his other eye had not been closed, his vision would have blacked out with pain and shock and he breathed in a sharp gasp. Hux held very, very still then. His whole body rigid so as not to do that again.

Everything was wet, even with Ren's mouth wrapped tight around it, he was still very aware of the wetness that pooled on his tongue. Was it tears or blood or something else? He sucked and licked at the eye on his mouth, taking special care to lower his head when he felt Hux pulling at it. Surely that must have hurt, and Ren was nothing if not hospitable when his guests were being good.

Carefully, without letting the eye too far back in his throat, Ren grazed his teeth along the base of the flesh that kept it attached. He made sure to bring himself in as close to the socket as he could manage, dragging the remainder into his mouth. Finally, with a last little groan of approval, or perhaps of warning, he bit down, grinding his teeth until they severed through the remaining tendon. Blood filled his mouth, tasting far sweeter than he had anticipated, and when Ren pulled away, it was with Hux's eye and connecting tissues completely encased within.

It had to have hurt, and there was such a mess trailing down Ren's chin. He sat back, hands still on Hux's cheeks, while he worked the mess around against his tongue, cleaning it up and sucking it free of fluids. The urge to bite down was overwhelming, but he refused to give in, there was so much more to do before destroying something as beautiful as this. So he gently retrieved the thing from between his lips, holding it with his forefinger and thumb, long strand of flesh catching in his teeth and pulling free, only to be spat aside, a bloody mess on the floor.

It hurt, of course it hurt, a sharp cutting pain as the tendon was severed, but amid all the other sensations he was allowing to wash over him, it was hard to distinguish, he was holding himself too rigid to flinch anymore anyway. Hux was drifting. His eye, his head, Ren's hands were all an indistinct whirl. Ren had bitten it off, it was gone, he didn't have to think about it anymore. Surely Ren would be satisfied now, he'd doled out his punishment, Hux could let his conscious mind drift, drown in the vertigo, hope there wasn't actual extensive brain damage. He could ignore whatever it was Ren was doing just above him.

Ren gazed down at Hux thoughtfully, bringing his eye down close to his face. "Look," he said, sounding almost mesmerized with his own actions, "have you ever seen your eye color so close up before? It's gorgeous, detective. Look at it. _Look at it!_ " He waved the thing close to the man's remaining good eye, ensuring it would be impossible to ignore.

Hux was not allowed to ignore it for long. Ren's voice demanded attention, he wanted Hux to look at the eye. Hux did not want to see it. Why couldn't it have just disappeared down Ren's throat and been done with it? Ren repeated himself, voice sounding impassioned and like it would be unwise to disobey. Hux opened his eye, finding the lifeless orb right in his vision. It took several tries before he managed to focus on it.

It was unmistakably his eye. He'd seen it in the mirror countless times, cursorily met his own gaze in the rearview or while shaving, it _was_ his eye, but it was almost unrecognizable. just a bloodshot ball, vaguely blueish cornea. It didn't even look like it was staring at him, just a dead thing, it could have been a prop from a halloween store. Hux held the contact for a beat, groaned quietly, then let his eye slide closed again. There. He'd done what Ren wanted.

Ren watched closely, drinking in every moment as Hux took in the sight of his own eye, ruined and irreparable. It was beautiful, the realization, the soft little groan, the fight all gone from him. As Hux's eye slipped shut, Ren popped the severed one back between his lips, sucking at it, pushing it between his molars and testing the resistance. Then slowly, slowly, he bit down, breaking through the orb, bursting it and filling his mouth up with fluid that leaked from the corners to dribble down his chin.

His hands found Hux's cheeks once more, holding tight, keeping him in place, and his thumbs slid toward his lips, pressing past his teeth to hold his mouth open just enough. He kissed him then, gently, just the barest brushing of lips, then turning heated all at once, teeth clashing as he forced the partially chewed eye down into the detective's mouth. There was no relenting though, he knew he would be met with resistance, so he stayed in place, thumbs locked behind teeth, tongue lapping at the bloody mess he'd left for Hux. The man's nose was against his chin with the awkward upside-down position they'd wound up in, smearing blood and bits of flesh between them, but he would not let up until Hux had _swallowed_.

Ren’s hands were back on his face, and then in his mouth, stretching the torn corners of his lips and forcing his jaw open an inch or so to allow his thumbs entry. Ren evidently was not done punishing him. His throat tightened up, ready for another round of choking, but they didn't press into the back of his mouth again, instead staying wedged in his teeth. He didn't try to bite down, sure he didn't have enough strength to do real damage to Ren's sturdy thumbs. What the hell did he want now?

Hux's question was quickly answered when Ren's lips met his, gentle and tender, almost like a real kiss if it weren't both upside down and dribbling salty fluids. Then Ren's mouth pressed down harder, tongue pressing in, pushing the mashed remains of what had been his eye past his teeth, Hux found a small reserve of fighting spirit he'd thought he'd used up. His eye snapped open, a noise of protest moaned directly back into Ren's mouth. He returned to struggling, much less violently now, mostly just working his jaw and tongue, trying to push it back out, but all he really managed to do was make a pathetic mockery of reciprocating the kiss. He tried to close his mouth, but just as he'd thought, Ren's thumbs prevented that, the rest of his hands spread across his face and jaw stopped him turning away or doing anything but gag on it, forcing him to _taste_ the thing, feel its texture, feel Ren's tongue.

Even worse than the taste was what it was doing to him. Having eaten nothing but the pills and the water Ren had given him the night before in more than two days now, his body had almost forgotten about food, metabolism shut down entirely to divert what energy he had left to his injuries and fight or flight responses. But at the first sign of some kind of sustenance, it fired back up again. He was suddenly very acutely aware of how hungry he was, and more distressingly, how much he had to piss. His stomach ached, the disgusting salty flavor was no longer so revolting that his gag reflex could outweigh the instinctual desire to swallow anything he was given. His resistance ran out, and with his tongue still trying to push the eye out, his throat took over and let it slide down.

Ren's pulse jumped as Hux accidentally reciprocated the kiss, their tongues clashing for several seconds before _finally_ , Hux seemed to learn that he needed to swallow. The mess was gone from his mouth, leaving the taste behind to linger while Ren allowed himself a moment more to leave their lips locked. When he finally pulled away, there was something like amusement in his eyes, and an underlying darkness that was perfectly paired with the blood that dripped down his chin.

"Good," he praised, voice soft, hands pulling away. He gazed down at him then, taking in just how perfect he looked with his face all wet and his empty socket dripping blood down his cheek like tears. A perfect mess, one that was all for him. Ren moved to Hux's side, shuffling his knees across the floor, pressing his fingers to the detective's ribs, nails just barely scraping. He wondered briefly, with amusement, if Hux happened to be ticklish.

A theory for later, he decided, in case he ever needed some excuse to make the man laugh, just to see how he might look with a positive emotion on his face for a change. His hand was at Hux's waistband then, fingers tucking beneath the top of his briefs, tugging lightly, teasing at the hair he found beneath. "You were good for me. I'll clean you when I've finished." His hands moved to either side of Hux's hips, yanking on the fabric of his shorts, sliding them down. "Lift your hips," he ordered, eager to remove this final barrier that separated Hux from his full view. He had seen every other part of him, secrets would not be allowed here.

When Ren finally pulled away from his face and began cooing about how good he was, Hux felt sure that Ren was done with his eye. He could at least be secure in the knowledge that he wouldn't have to endure that particular flavor of torment anymore. But he was far from sure that his punishment at large was over. He had tried to kill Ren and escape after all, likely the two worst things he could possibly have done.

His suspicions were confirmed when Ren's hands vanished and he could hear him shifting around to his side, the hands returned to trace down him, finally landing at his waist. Figures, he hadn't thought that small amount of dignity that had remained to him would last even this long, it would follow that Ren wanted to debase him entirely, now that he'd broken this far, why should Ren stop? Hux didn't want Ren to see the mess he'd made of himself last night, but he'd rather this be over with faster than to drag it out with pointless stubbornness, Ren would rip the underwear off him anyway, might as well comply if it meant he'd get a chance to be clean after.

He obliged, putting weight on his right leg and finding it harder to lift his skinny hips than it should have been, the blood loss and lack of food, along with the concussion must have been doing quite the number on him. He felt weak all over, but managed to get his ass an inch or so off the mattress, stretching the wound in his stomach (clotted closed, thankfully) and causing his thigh muscles to quiver with the effort. Once he let his hips fall back down, he opened his eye just slightly to watch what Ren would do, firmly not looking down at himself, he didn't want to see any more than he wanted Ren to.

Hux was good, so good for him, Ren could not stop the swell of pride in his chest at the realization that he was beginning to actually _learn_. This must have been what it felt like to train a dog to bring in the newspaper, a small start that promised for much greater things. Ren was careful to get Hux's shorts over his knee, avoiding touching it before actually getting them fully off and tossing them aside. It wasn't as though he would be needing any sort of cover any time soon, not when Ren was the only one who would be seeing him for the foreseeable future.

The mess he was met with was not surprising, he _had_ let him finish in his underwear just last night after all. Still, he made a face at it, if only because he felt Hux watching him, likely too embarrassed or ashamed to look at himself. That was perfectly fine though, Ren liked knowing that this was all for him to look at, that Hux had only made such a mess of himself because of Ren in the first place.

The crusty filth that matted Hux's pubic hair was perfect in its own way, it demanded to be brought to attention, so Ren ran his fingers through it, going against the grain so that they might catch and tug. His lips crooked up into some mockery of a smirk as he leaned down to kiss the man's hip bone, gaze transfixed on the single eye he had left behind. "You're positively filthy, Detective, every inch of you." As he spoke, he trailed his lips lower, pressing light and precise kisses just shy of the base of Hux's cock. "I assure you, I don't mind at all. Should we consider this part of your reward? I can make it good for you too if you continue on this path of cooperation." His cheek was nuzzled against the shaft, soft and smooth, rubbing gently as though he really did intend to show that he had a modicum of control over how careful he could treat someone.

Hux couldn't avoid looking down at himself for long, Ren's face, the only thing he had the wherewithal to focus on, quickly led his gaze down to his own crotch. As he'd known, a mess of crusted come. Heedless, even gleeful, Ren wasted no time in getting his mouth and face all over Hux's shame. Hux ignored the bulk of what he was saying, he knew he was filthy, Ren rubbing it in didn't change anything. He had no shortage of other reasons to be humiliated anyway, of course his cock wouldn't just sit there when paid attention to. It twitched at the touches, Ren's sensual tone going right to his libido and bypassing his every conscious thought that told him he should hate to be touched by him. He was resigned to it now, but the increasingly uningnorable fact that the water Ren had given him the night before had worked its way through his distressed system and wanted out was something he was not resigned to. The tension in his bladder was becoming almost as insistent as the pain in his head, and that was one indignity he was not quite willing to let himself be subjected to.

"Just get it over with" his voice was less ragged than it might have been, after all that crying and screaming, he sounded more tired to his own ears than anything else. The day had scarcely begun and he was already exhausted, he guessed that was what came of mad bids for freedom and having one's eye ripped out. "if you really wanted to reward me you'd give me a bucket". At least he hadn't lost his ability to talk back.

"You lost that privilege when you knocked it out of my hands on the stairs," Ren replied, casually shrugging while he focused his breathing against the twitching length in front of him. Still, it was an amusing thought, that Hux might be so desperate for a place to piss that he would resort to pleading for the very bucket Ren had already intended on giving him. He gave a soft puff of air through his nose, almost a laugh, and briefly darted his tongue out to drag a quick stripe along the man's shaft.

"You dropped the bucket on your own." He paused to breathe a shuddery breath when Ren licked him, gritted his teeth against the sensation. "All I did was stab you" His sarcasm could have used some work, but he was still reeling, nauseous from hunger and having swallowed the eye, barely holding onto his ability to string words together, he felt he was entitled to some mediocre sarcasm while Ren examined his most private areas with what appeared to be the expression of a hungry wolf about to tear into a wounded deer.

"I'll remind you that this mattress is where you sleep, it might be wise to hold your urges until I can help you take care of them." He did still intend to clean him and give him his basic necessities, and while it would have been pointless to bathe him if he was just going to sleep in his own piss, the mattress could always be flipped, covered in a sheet, sprayed down with scented fabric cleaners.

Ren got a hand beneath Hux's good knee, pushing his leg up and to the side, so that he could lean back and cup his balls out of the way for an unimpeded view of everything beneath. He surveyed the area as though inspecting a piece of meat, like he was trying to decide the best way to go about cooking and eating the prime cut he'd acquired. The detective's bodily functions had been one of the last things on his mind until then, aside from the bucket he was planning on leaving for his own convenience cleaning things up. Bucket denial, what a simple way to leverage control without compromising Hux's other basic needs and withholding something he could actually die from.

So Ren would not be allowing him to relieve himself on his own. Figures. And with the knowledge that he'd have to wait, the urgency only increased. He shifted his hips uncomfortably, Ren touching him and spreading his legs like that making the prospect seem more difficult by the moment.

He wished he were not so disoriented and dizzy, if only so that he could be less of a passive observer to his own body as it betrayed him once again. The feeling of being adrift made what Ren was doing down there at once less real, and harder to ignore, as the man was still his most solid anchor to reality. Blinking at him, Hux found it was indeed hard to tell how far away he was, he supposed proper depth perception was not something he could ever expect to have again. It might have been that, or just his physical discomfort that had him swallowing a quiet whimper, when would Ren stop devouring him with his eyes and just get on with it already?

"Patience, Hux." There was only so much that Ren could do with Hux's knee in its current state, turning him over was out of the question, propping him on that knee at all was impossible. He could line up like this, press himself right inside, but the lack of lube was sure to be painful for the both of them, he had no interest in the dry drag that would come with forcing himself in.

With some amount of carefulness, Ren slid his hand beneath Hux's thigh, lifting his ruined leg gently so that he could at least get his hips up a little higher. Like this, he could almost just...

Hux whimpered out loud as his bad knee was forced to bend ever so slightly with his leg being lifted. Ren seemed to be having some kind of quandary, lifting Hux's hips, considering them, putting him back down. Bizarre. He'd obviously had no qualms about cutting his own hole and fucking it the night before. Had Hux actually been right to guess that Ren couldn't even have sex properly? It wasn't as though doing it dry and dirty wouldn't be painful. Perhaps not as painful as the wound had been, but it would hurt enough to make him react, and that was what Ren got off on, right? His reactions.

"I'll have to improvise," Ren muttered, mostly to himself, as he shifted down, laid himself out between the man's legs. He could have let him bathe first, could have grabbed lube or at least some lotion from the bathroom to make things easier, cleaner. But there was something about how filthy Hux was, the natural musk that came from being stuck in a pair of ruined underwear overnight, that made his desire impossible to ignore.

Rather than dwell on his thoughts on the matter any longer, Ren decided to dive right in, tongue pressing to his hole, dragging across it. He moaned, deep and low in his throat, while he worked up an excess of saliva to spread over the area, slicking him up with enough spit to dribble down his skin in long streaks.

Ren's intentions became clear when he began to shift, bringing his face back down, lower, Hux involuntarily clenched, 'improvise' did not sound good. He felt Ren's hot tongue press against his entrance, he flinched, but that sent a jolt of pain from his leg. No one had ever done this to him before. He'd gotten his fair share of blowjobs in the past, been fucked, but this was another level of intimacy, not the type of thing one does with an occasional lackluster hookup. His dick was getting the idea though, even if his mind was more preoccupied with how he must smell and how much he had to piss, it seemed perfectly happy to move on towards half hard regardless of what he had to say in the matter.

Ren moaned into him, the vibration went right to his cock, Hux couldn't look away, eye locked on where the bottom half of Ren's face disappeared between his legs.

Ren kept his eyes closed at first, focusing on his task, tongue dipping in just past the rim. This was never something he had attempted before, not for lack of desire though, it was something that had simply not come up in his very brief previous sexual encounter. That had been clinical, fumbling and awkward with little room for experimentation, but here with Hux, with _his_ detective, he could do whatever he wanted. He flexed the privilege by pushing in deep, forcing his large nose to nudge up beneath Hux's balls while he experimented with different patterns of licking inside.

Ren had obviously never done this before either, but wasted no time in delving into him. Hux squirmed, but whether he was squirming away or closer was beginning to be hard to tell. Ren had yet to find his prostate, but it couldn't be long now, he was working deeper. Hux felt slick and too hot, hard now, and still unable to look away. After a few minutes, long enough to start actually feeling something, not quite like getting fingered or fucked, but definitely something besides pain was making his breath come short, Ren's questing tongue pulled back out of him. If Hux's face had not been a streaky mess of blood he'd likely have been visibly flushed.

When he deemed the area slick enough, Ren pulled back, glancing up to find Hux watching him. There was no hiding how the corner of his lips tugged up just slightly at the sight, knowing that he'd been the cause of the half hard state of the man's cock, now at perfect eye level. "Does it feel good? Do you want me to keep going?" His breath was hot against Hux's crotch, tongue darting out to lick his lips. Ren could hardly deny his own curiosity at how that particular sensation might feel, perhaps it was something to explore later, along with Hux's potential for being ticklish.

"It feels like you're licking my asshole, Ren. Don't ask me if it's good." He refrained from telling Ren again that he knew he’d do what he wanted to Hux regardless of what Hux said. Ren already knew he knew that, and playing his little consent game was part of it. "Just hurry up and do what you have to." urgency brought an almost but not quite pleading edge to his voice. He did not say please, but the impulse was there. He hadn't sunk to the level of begging yet, but fairly soon he would be at serious risk of pissing himself. Ren was not helping with his his hot breaths, little teasing sensations straddling the border of tickling and pleasure right where Hux was most sensitive.

Ren's smirk fell as he heard those words, clearly not what he had wanted at all, and he sat back up with a huff while he glared the man down. The slight hint of a pleading tone was not lost on him, though he doubted that was attributed to how badly Hux wanted Ren to fuck him. Poor thing still needed to piss.

"Fine," he spat after a moment, scooting himself closer, until he could rest the backs of Hux's thighs on top of his legs. He could push in from here, it would only be a matter of pulling his sweatpants down enough to get his cock out, but part of him wanted to draw things out, to see how far he could get the man to bend before he gave in and begged. Or maybe he would just piss himself, Ren wouldn't put it past someone as proud as Hux to hold off on begging until the last possible second.

Rather than give in to his initial urge to force his way in immediately, Ren slid a hand between them, index finger poised at Hux's hole, slick with saliva. He would give him a finger or two, not so much to ease the way for his cock as it was to extend the whole process a few minutes longer. With his gaze locked on the detective's remaining eye, he pressed his finger in, crooking it to follow along the soft inner wall just to see if he could manage to brush across his prostate in the process.

He should have known better than to ask for Ren to hurry up, he really should have known it would only make him drag this out, but when Ren's finger pressed in, he didn't have any thought left over to regret it, spending every bit of energy he had left on holding down the pressure. Then the finger crooked, pressing right up into his bladder. He clamped down, gasping for breath. It was enough to make him forget how much it hurt his knee to have his leg moved again. He stared at the ceiling now, unable to keep Ren's gaze.

He could beg Ren to stop, he wanted to, his body was screaming at him to stop this, but knowing Ren, pleading with him would only make him do the opposite. Hux could not ask him again, he couldn't allow himself give Ren that. Another searching crook of the digit inside of him found it's mark, the jolt of pleasure it sent up his spine was too much, his thighs tensed, he clenched his mouth shut on a string of '”lease stop! No! Please!'s that he managed to keep to a single quiet, strangled "No.", directed entirely at himself. If Ren heard, then so be it.

And then it was happening. The muscles relaxed without his permission, and all he could do was feel it happen and hate himself for letting it. All told, not very much came out, he had only had those few gulps of water the night before, on top of dehydration from the blood loss. It was really barely even enough piss to reach the mattress when it ran down his side in a warm rivulet. Hux shut his eye, that was wet too, another warm bit of liquid. Another, quieter "No." this one sobbed. This didn't feel less humiliating than begging might have been.

"Oh, detective," Ren breathed, utterly transfixed on the liquid that ran down Hux's pale flesh, trickling a bright golden color with the lack of fluid in his diet, "you filthy thing, look what you've done." The words might as well have been foreplay, like a bit of dirty talk that one might offer up during sex, and maybe that really was how Ren saw it. His pupils dilated, lips parting around a shuddering exhale of stunned breath at the sight, like he'd just seen something awe-inspiring.

When his gaze flicked up to meet Hux's face, he found it wet with tears, cutting gorgeous lines through the cracked trails of blood, adorning Hux like it was meant to be on him all along. "It's alright," he assured softly, carefully beginning to slide his middle finger in alongside his index, working him open with gentle forward nudges, "I'll bathe you after this. Would you like that, Hux? Hot water and soap, I may even shave your face."

Hux kept his eye closed, he didn't want to be part of this anymore. Agency be damned. Ren was talking, back to crooning, all gentle, carefully fingering him, telling him how disgusting he was and how it was alright despite that, Hux had to hear, it was almost sounded like it was in his head, impossible to tune out. His chest shook from the crying, and the two fingers now pressing gently up into him. It felt good, he couldn't even pretend to himself that it didn't. Even while his breaths couldn’t make it past his knotted up throat without turning into sobs, he began to pant. He nodded automatically in response to Ren's question, a bath, god he wanted to be clean. And Ren wasn't even dangling it in front of him, just flat out offering. He could think about the consequences of accepting something he wanted so much, so easily given to him, when he knew nothing could be taken at face value _later_ , but right now, he thought he could bear anything in exchange for being clean again.

Ren was being so accommodating, surely Hux must have been grateful for all he was being offered. A hint of a smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth, adding to the already crooked quirk of his lips, and he slowly dipped his head down, watching the man for his reactions, wanting to see every little hitch in breath or fat tear that he could wring from him. His fingers arched up to rub circles at his insides while his tongue flattened over the shaft of his cock, dragging up toward the head, large enough to cover a decent portion of skin all at once. A slight pause as he reached the frenulum, just to see if Hux might meet his gaze, and then his lips were closing entirely around the head, tongue briefly flicking over the very tip of him, acrid with piss.

Ren’s fingers were working steadily, just shy of his prostate, just where he couldn't help but start to whimper as he felt the head of his cock enveloped in the heat of Ren's mouth. The shame only made it worse, knowing he'd taste the piss, the dried come, and the accumulated filth. Hux knew Ren liked getting his mouth on the filthiest things he could find. He couldn't make himself flinch away, or even pry his eye open again to look down, just bite his lip and _feel_. He caught himself wondering if, at some point, one stopped feeling shame, could one bottom out on self-loathing? This might be it, wet with his own piss and blood, with the taste of parts of himself still on his tongue and sobbing while his tormentor fucked him on two fingers and sucked him off. He could have laughed at what a spectacle he must be.

Ren hummed in appreciation for all of the man's reactions around the tip of his cock, letting his eyes slip shut so that he could focus every ounce of his attention solely on listening to those lovely panting sobs of Hux's. He would not allow him to come like this, not yet, not when Ren had not had the chance to plunge into him and make him cry out in an entirely new way. Slowly, he pulled his mouth free of the filthy prick he'd been gently nursing, licked his lips and, with his tongue, chased the trail of piss that led from Hux's belly and down his side, leaving a slick and shining stream of saliva in its wake.

Next were his fingers, slipping free despite how much he relished the idea of digging into his detective's prostate until he came on those alone. He was quick to pull himself into position then, elastic waistband of his sweats shuffling down his hips just enough to free his erection, leaving it to bob in the cool air with a satisfied sigh. Ren pushed at Hux's thighs once more, careful enough with his injured leg as he pulled him into position. There was an undeniable expression of hunger on his face while he spat into his hand and made some crude attempt at slicking himself up.

"I'll bring proper lube next time," he promised, thinking he did a good job of sounding sincere, some part of him beginning to convince himself that he was being very gracious and good to Hux. There was really nothing more to say and the longer he took with conversation the more his makeshift lube would dry out, so he positioned a hand beneath Hux's good knee to lift that leg up toward his chest, lined up with his free hand and began the slow process of attempting to push himself inside.

Just as Hux was starting to think that he might come just from Ren's mouth and fingers, said mouth pulled off of him, and that warm tongue lapped at his belly and down his side. He wasn't surprised, this was just the kind of thing he was learning to expect from Ren. At least he wouldn't reek of piss now. With most of the evidence gone, the shame abated just slightly. Enough that when Ren's fingers slid out, and he felt the unmistakable motions of someone preparing to fuck him properly, he could make himself breathe out and at least try to relax his muscles a little bit, between the sobs. Just in time for Ren to promise to bring actual lube next time, and start to press the fat head of his cock in.

Hux must have been behaving how Ren wanted him to for all of this: being gentle with his leg, promises of a bath and lube. Evidently, Ren could be very accommodating when he was pleased. Hux wished he wasn't grateful for that, or that he what he was biting his lip against wasn't decidedly trying to be a moan. It had been months since he'd done this, and two fingers, even ones as thick as Ren's were only just barely preparation enough.

"It's alright to make noise you know. No one can hear you but me." Ren felt the tip of his cock pop in and released a soft groan of his own as an example. He could not deny how gorgeous Hux looked like this, bloodied and crying, like a true work of art. As much as Ren had loved the slick slide of organs around his length, he could already tell that the tight heat he was being offered here was going to seriously rival that sensation.

To his credit, Ren pressed in slowly and steadily, giving Hux enough time to get used to him but never slowing down enough for it to stop hurting entirely. He was thick and heavy inside Hux, inside the right way now. It wasn't sickening, just this side of uncomfortable, pressing deeper while his hand traced over Hux’s streakily dirty stomach, nails just catching, not breaking the skin. Once he was clean, he didn't doubt that he'd be covered in faint red lines, Ren had raked his nails over him enough times, and his skin had always marked so easily.

Once he had managed to clear the halfway mark and was no longer in need of a guiding hand, he moved his fingers to Hux, running smoothly across his stomach, nails grazing his skin. "I can tell that you enjoy pain with your pleasure, Hux," he said beneath a heavy breath, beginning to press in further, reveling in the feel of tight muscle parting just for him. When he had nearly bottomed out, he finally leaned down over Hux, moving both hands to the mattress at either side of his head to brace himself. "That's why I promise to fuck you until you're screaming for it, I'll do this for you every night, condition you to want nothing else." And with that, he bucked his hips forward to drive himself the rest of the way inside in a single unforgiving movement.

Hux had just begun to consider cracking his eye open again, when Ren suddenly thrust himself in to the hilt. That got a yelp out of him, muscles clamping down on Ren, the pain went right to the wound in his stomach. He breathed deep, chest still hitching every few breaths, but also clearly panting in pleasure. He caught himself wishing his hands were untied, just so he could grab onto something.

Ren’s promises continued to come. He wanted to fuck Hux every night. Could Ren really keep him alive that long? He hadn't even fed him yet. But if he really planned to wash him, maybe he was serious about not killing him, molding him into a pet, conditioning him to want to be fucked and not to escape. If that was true, that meant Hux had time. So, with Ren's cock buried in him, still recovering from what he was sure was a new record for the worst, most humiliating moment of his life, Hux changed his strategy. No more last ditch escape attempts. This was no longer a desperate sprint to get away, but a marathon, and that meant following Ren's advice from the night before: pick his battles. Filled with a new drive for survival, he let himself moan. He would play along for now.

Hux's moan went straight to Ren's cock, accentuating just how perfectly he tightened up around him. He was winning, Hux was giving in. Had Ren already broken him so easily? Rather than take it slow any longer, he began to rut into the man beneath him, still propped up just above his face, dark eyes watching him closely. Like this, it was hard to believe that Ren had waited so long to claim someone, overcome by the sheer intimacy of being so close he could taste Hux's breath. But it could not have been just anyone, he realized, it _had_ to be Hux, was always meant to be Hux.

"Do you like it?" he panted, finding his lips had somehow moved close enough to brush against the detective's with each motion of his hips. "I'll touch you too if you want. If you ask me for it." One hand was already moving down, pressing between them to trap Hux's cock against his stomach, offering no friction even while he relentlessly thrust into him.

It was good. It was, Ren was just rough enough with him, it was hard to reconcile how awful everything else was with how good it felt to be fucked. He did open his eye then, to see Ren looking down at him, looming closer. The tears he blinked away now were mostly left over, just what was pooled in his eye and drying on his skin no more were actually flowing. Ren's mouth was just barely not touching his own, and he didn't even have to lie when he breathed "yes" against it. It wasn't begging, or even really asking, but maybe Ren wouldn't notice. He might be playing along, but until it was required of him, he wouldn't break his promise to himself not to beg.

His legs did their best to wrap around Ren's middle; it didn't work with his knee, or the angle his good leg had been pressed to, but he could position himself so the drag of Ren's cock grazed right across his prostate. He didn't hold back the noises that each thrust forced out of him. A little panted "hah" of pleasure and pain each time he was jolted when their hips met. He hated to think it, but, in different circumstances, he would have really enjoyed this. Ren's big hand on his cock had his eye fluttering again. He could come like this, it would take a little while, but he was so sensitive, if Ren would just keep up what he was doing and maybe stroke him a little, he'd get there.

"Good," Ren breathed, repeated the word softly a few times as he smirked to himself. How amazing that he was able to pull these sounds from his detective, even while he had so many wounds that must have been throbbing terribly. He let his lips come to rest against Hux's cheek, grazing through caked blood and tears, and he didn't dare shift their position once Hux seemed to find exactly where he wanted to feel Ren's cock the most.

It was a shame that Ren knew he was already so close to the end, cock throbbing and thrusts already beginning to stutter. He compensated by using more of his length each time, pulling out as close to the tip as he dared and pounding back in to the hilt. True to his word, he wrapped his hand around Hux's prick, squeezing him gently for a brief moment, then picking up into sudden quick strokes from base to tip. "I'm close," he warned, little more than a deep groan from his throat, "I'm going to do it inside, Hux, so deep that you'll never get it out." It was a promise, heavy with his near panting breaths, hot against the side of Hux's face.

Hux nodded, a short, sharp nod, just enough to acknowledge Ren's promise, and then he was openly panting. Ren was jerking him off, thrusting hard, filling him up, talking low and hot. It was enough, more than enough. Hux was coming before he could think to prepare for it. Hot liquid spatttered over his stomach for the second time that day with a long moan. Ren's ear was right there, Hux hoped he enjoyed that because it had been almost entirely genuine. His thighs clenched tight around Ren, the pain of his knee all but  
forgotten for a brief moment where it was actually perfect. All the pain and  
humiliation and degradation, even his plan faded and, for a second, he was just getting fucked through an orgasm.

Then he was coming back to himself, Ren was still fucking him, his leg hurt and his head swam. His hands were going numb under him where they were tied. Fuck. He hadn't come that fast with someone else in years. He was oversensitive now, Ren was far from gentle and Hux felt more raw than anything else, he whined quietly but kept his hips angled, let Ren finish quick enough and he'd be getting a bath out of this. He could look forward to that at least. Then, he could really get down to the long-term scheming.

When Hux came, moaning, holding on tight, Ren was certain that he had never felt anything quite so perfect. It was a rush, a hot and pulsing thing that clenched tight around his dick and reminded him of the very first time he had ever killed a man. This was the same feeling he got when, fresh after a kill, Ren would seclude himself in a dark space somewhere and jerk himself to orgasm with blood slicking his fingers. That Hux could make him feel something so familiar and new all at once was enough to pull him that extra inch toward the edge.

"Hux," he gasped, wringing his hand up the man's length, liking how he sounded when he was whining with over-sensitivity. Ren hammered into him, thrusts jolting Hux into the mattress in a jerky and uneven pace, until _finally_ he was driving himself in deep, grinding up against Hux when he could go no further. He spilled into him in thick spurts, teeth clamping down on the flesh just beneath his ear in an attempt at muffling the stuttering moans that left him unintentionally.

It wasn't long, a minute more maybe of quiet yelps and gasps of pain as Hux was roughly pounded before he was being held taut and still, hips pressed hard together, and his insides were filled with liquid heat. Ren bit down on his neck, moaning into him and shuddering.

Ren would not pull out though, not just yet. With his cock still buried, twitching and sensitive, he kissed the bruise he'd left on Hux's neck almost apologetically, hand coming up to run through bright ginger hair, despite the slick come that clung to his fingers. "Did you like it?" he sounded eager, proud of himself and looking for approval like a child who'd just learned to draw something new.

The gentle kisses after a moment were unexpected, as was the hand in his hair. The question though, that was familiar. Hux knew that tone. Ren had asked if something felt good before. Hux knew from experience that that tone was even more dangerous than Ren in a towering rage, even more, almost, than deadly calm. This was Ren: vulnerable and open, easily wounded and ready to retaliate if hurt. He would have to tread very, very carefully here. Ren wasn't stupid. He'd know if he was being patronized or lied to. If Hux was suddenly all praises, he'd get suspicious.

He breathed in, steadying his voice "I'd be lying if I said I hadn't had worse"

That seemed to be an acceptable enough answer, considering Ren huffed out a soft laugh against Hux's neck, fingers petting through his hair nicely. "It was our first time, I'll find what makes you squirm soon enough." Another promise for future endeavors. Ren would learn every part of Hux, dig his fingers into the deep dark parts of him until he pulled every weakness to the surface. By the time he finished, Hux wouldn't even want to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ren removes Hux's eye using his fingers. He severs tendons with his teeth and puts it all in his mouth like the filthy heathen that he is. It's all chewed and then force fed to Hux through a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> You can come and chat with me on tumblr, I'm ascatman there. All comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!


End file.
